


A Game For Three

by just_a_rosie



Series: A Game For Three Storyverse [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Ableist Language, Animal Death, Blood and Injury, Bullying, Child Murder, Consensual Underage Sex, Deception, F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kleptomania, M/M, Multi, Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Rating May Change, Scars, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 39,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_rosie/pseuds/just_a_rosie
Summary: A boy, his shadow, and the name they heard in whispers.This is their story.(Moriarty/OFC, Eventual Moriarty/OFC/Sherlock (Poly, NOT Love Triangle))
Relationships: Jim Moriarty/Original Female Character(s), Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/Original Female Character(s)
Series: A Game For Three Storyverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794643
Comments: 39
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This fic is going to get dark. Well, my level of dark. So, like, kind of dim. But still, it will touch on some not so nice things. I'm not sure of all of them yet. I like to update tags as I go. Please, if you're at all triggered by anything, heed the trigger warnings in the beginning notes of every chapter. That being said...
> 
> TW: Mentions of possible psychopathic or sociopathic behavior in a child. (Going to be honest, I haven't really looked up anything about psychopathy or sociopathy. I'm just writing my OC how I want and the other characters how I feel they would act in these scenarios. You can psychoanalyse them if you want. I'm going to stick with the trigger warning just in case.)

Everyone in that little neighborhood in Sussex would tell you there was "something off" with Artemis Constance Doyle. Some said it started the day of her birth. That she didn't even cry when she was being born. Some said it happened even before that, claiming her mother never felt the child inside her kick once. Whether or not these claims were true, Artemis didn't know for sure, but could guess they were lies considering the low statistical probability of either, let alone both, being true. Most claimed that it started after her mother died when she was four years old. That the death had taken the happiness, along with all other emotions, out of her.

If you asked Artemis, she'd ask you what you meant by "something off" about her. Oh, she knew she wasn't normal by any stretch of the word. But she didn't find herself particularly strange or bad, as the word "off" seemed to imply. And they did imply that.

Because the crux of the matter was this: Artemis Constance Doyle was entirely apathetic to anything and everything.

Her eyes didn't light up when given a present.

She'd simply nod if you asked her if she wanted to go for ice cream.

If another child stole her toy, she'd simply pick up a different one.

If she fell and scraped her knee, she'd simply get up and find a first aid kit.

And if there was one thing her neighbors were correct in their gossip about it was that she had, in fact, not cried when her mother succumbed to her illness.

She simply did not feel emotions.

At least, that's what people whispered to each other when they thought she couldn't hear them.

Artemis isn't exactly sure if they're correct or not. She thinks she feels emotions. She just doesn't seem to feel them when/where other children her age feel them.

She doesn't feel gratitude when given a present on her birthday or a holiday, because that's what people do on those occasions.

She doesn't get excited over something like ice cream, because it's just a type of sustenance.

She doesn't get angry when another child steals her toy, because there are others around that will work just as well to provide entertainment.

If she fell, yes she felt the sharp pain as her skin broke, her nerve endings did work thank you very much. But she wasn't about to cry over it as crying did nothing to help the situation.

And why would she feel sad over her mother's death? Her mother had been in hospital for as long as she could remember. And with her father working all the time and the hospital's strict visiting rules, she couldn't exactly visit that often. Why cry over a dead woman that she barely even knew?

So, no, she definitely didn't feel normal emotions for a child. But that didn't mean she was emotionless.

Curiosity was the main one.

She was curious why people gave her presents on her birthday and holidays.

She was curious why ice cream was as sweet as it was, or why it was considered a treat.

She was curious why another child felt the need to take her toy when there were plenty of others lying around.

She was curious why, if she knew it was useless to cry, she still felt a sting behind her eyes when she fell and scraped her knee.

She was curious why people who had never even visited her mother in the hospital were crying at her funeral.

But nothing, nothing, had ever sparked Artemis' curiosity more than the boy who moved next door in the summer of 1982.

\---

They had first met when Artemis and her father went to greet the new neighbors. Because that was what good neighbors did. They seemed a fairly normal family of three. There was some general small talk. Introductions, welcoming them to the neighborhood, discussing careers, or lack of, of the parents and ages of the children. They all had rather generic names like her father, George, did. Andrew, the father, Caitlin, the mother, and James, also known as "Jimmy", the child. The Tobin family. His father had some office job and his mother didn't have a job. Jimmy, like Artemis, was six years old, though he was several months older than her. He'd be starting in the same Primary School as Artemis planned to go to in the autumn.

Eventually Caitlin suggested that Jimmy "go show Artemis his toys" which Artemis knew meant that the adults wanted them gone so they could talk about whatever it is adults talk about when children aren't around. Jimmy shrugged and headed up to his room without acknowledging Artemis who followed anyways. While the rest of the house was still only half unpacked, boxes still seen in most of the rooms, Jimmy's room looked like he had just finished putting it together. She wondered how long everything would stay where it belonged. Other children tended to keep messy rooms.

Jimmy opened his toy chest, gesturing to it, before he grabbed a book from the bookshelf and sat on his bed to read it, completely ignoring the girl in his room. Artemis shrugged before walking over and kneeling in front of the toy chest. There were all sorts of generic boy's toys. Hotwheels, action figures, a baseball and bat. They all looked brand new. Artemis' brows scrunched. Did he bring any of his old toys with him when he moved? Curiously she stood back up and glanced around the room. He had no plushies on his bed, instead the only soft toy he seemed to have was a generic teddy bear on a display shelf above his bed along with other various knick knacks. Again, no wear and tear. The only toy she found that looked like it had ever seen use was a Rubik's Cube on his desk. And the only reason she knew it was used was because it was mixed up. Artemis fiddled with the object, solving it reflexively, before putting it back.

When she turned her curious look back to Jimmy, she found him mirroring said look back at her. Artemis felt her cheeks warm and froze. Was she… embarrassed? Of course she understood that other people would feel embarrassment at being caught snooping, but he had given her permission to play with his toys. She shouldn't have a reason to feel embarrassed. Jimmy seemed to lose interest quickly as he looked back down at his book.

She mentally shook off this… feeling… and instead drew her attention to the book in Jimmy's hand. It was a chapter book that claimed to be a 'Children's Mystery Book' on the colorful cover. It also had one of those recommended age group seals on it which proclaimed it to be perfect for kids ten to twelve years old. Far older than the boy reading it was. And the spine was well worn. He either got it used, doubtful considering the state of his toys, or he had read it before. Probably several times before. A quick glance at the bookshelf showed that the books there were all in a similar state of use. They all also appeared to be either mystery books or nonfiction books. None of them were the picture books a six year old should possess. Not even one held onto for sentimentality or whatever.

Artemis gently sat down criss-cross on the floor. She rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands as she looked up at the boy.

"Why don't you play with any of your toys?" Artemis asked him.

"The assumption you made when asking that question is incorrect," Jimmy said, without looking up from his book.

Now, Artemis was admittedly rather smart for her age, but even she didn't quite understand all the words in that sentence.

"I don't know what you just said," she told him honestly.

"I play with some of my toys," he told her, literally and figuratively looking down at her.

Artemis pouted at his tone. He sounded as if he thought she was stupid. Like it was a chore to talk to her.

"You play with the Rubik's Cube. That's one toy," Artemis pointed out.

"I also have a Speak and Spell in one of the desk drawers," Jimmy said, nodding towards the desk.

"That's two toys. Still not 'some'," Artemis told him, continuing to be belligerent.

"A couple toys, then," Jimmy corrected with a shrug before he looked back down at the book.

Artemis pursed her lips in a pout at being ignored again. Really, it was rather rude. She stood up and went over to the desk, pulling open a drawer and finding the Speak and Spell. She lifted it out and examined it. There was some wear and tear. Not from dropping it like a normal child. No, instead the paint on the letters was quite faded like they were pressed a lot, leaving the shallow indentations of the letters, and general knowledge of the alphabet, for one to know which button was which. Artemis put the toy away before trying to open the next drawer. Key word being trying. It was… locked. Since when did kids have locked drawers in their bedrooms?

Artemis was about to question what was in the drawer when her father called from downstairs that it was time to leave. Artemis pouted again, she had actually been enjoying herself, but she knew better than to keep her father waiting.

"Bye Jimmy," she said as she opened the door. She waited a moment for a response but left with a sigh when it was clear she wouldn't be getting one.

Her father gave her an odd look as he watched her come down the stairs. It wasn't until they were making the incredibly short walk back to their house that she realized why.

Artemis Constance Doyle was smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of possible psychopathic or sociopathic behavior in children and animal death (death not on screen, but dissecting of body is)

Everyone in that little neighborhood in Sussex would tell you that James Andrew Tobin had a shadow in the form of Artemis Constance Doyle. But if you asked them when it started, they'd all say something different.

Their parents would say that it probably began that day they met each other. Old Mrs. Ainsley would say she first saw it when Artemis followed Jimmy to the park a couple weeks after the Tobins moved in. The other neighbors would claim the old gossip was just making it up as everyone knew that neither child ever seemed to leave their respective houses during that summer unless they were with their families. The adults said it started when Artemis followed too close to Jimmy to the bus stop on that first day of school together. The children would agree and claim that she also sat too close to him on the bus.

If you asked Artemis, she'd tell you it was a few days after she met Jimmy when she followed him out into the woods behind their houses.

\---

She was in her treehouse in the backyard, that had come with the house, when she saw Jimmy in his backyard. Which in itself wasn't an odd occurrence as the boy did sometimes "play" outside. And by "play" she means sit outside with his Speak and Spell or Rubik's Cube or a book. (Jimmy would later tell her that his mother would make him go outside to play in the hopes that he'd do something normal boys did.)

But this time Jimmy wasn't holding a book or one of his few played-with toys. He was holding a garbage bag that he was handling as if it were slightly heavy despite it looking mostly empty. He walked over to the back fence and pulled one of the boards away from the fence before slipping through and replacing the board behind him. Artemis watched as he headed across the field behind their houses, garbage bag still in hand. He was at the treeline of the woods by the time Artemis started to follow him, climbing out of the treehouse and across a branch that grew out over the fence. She tied the rope she grabbed from the treehouse around the branch and slid down it. She probably could just drop down from the branch, the drop wasn't actually that far down, but she needed the rope to get back into the yard anyways, so she might as well lessen the risk of injury by using it to get down as well.

Artemis hurried over to the treeline as fast as she could while trying to be quiet. Getting through the forest quietly was what really slowed her down as she worked to not step on any twigs that would snap and give away her location. It wasn't exactly a dense forest, so it wasn't too hard to find Jimmy hiding behind one of the thicker trees. He had something laid out in front of him that she couldn't see too well from her angle, but if she had to guess, it looked like the cat Mrs. Ainsley said went missing yesterday. Before Artemis could question what Jimmy would want with a fat old cat, she got her answer when Jimmy dropped an object beside what she could see of the cat. A knife. A bloody knife.

Most kids would probably sneak away at this point. The dumb ones might even scream and run crying to their parents. But Artemis simply watched from her own hiding place as Jimmy dissected their neighbor's cat. He was about as meticulous as a six year old could possibly be while dissecting a cat in the woods with a kitchen knife and safety scissors. At least he seemed to be organized and observant and not just hacking away at the corpse.

Considering she hadn't heard any yowling or seen any movement in the bag Jimmy was carrying, she guessed that the cat was already dead when he brought it out here. The real question was if he found it dead or killed it himself. (Artemis will later ask Jim about it and he will tell her that it was neither. That he found the cat dying, watched it die, and then took it out to the forest to dissect it.)

It had to have been at least half an hour, but probably closer to an hour before Jimmy finished what he was doing. He took off his gloves and put them and the knife and scissors in the garbage bag. He left the cat where it was, animals would do a better job getting rid of the evidence than a garbage can would, as he got up to leave. He froze when he saw Artemis watching him from halfway behind a tree.

Artemis made the zipping and locking motion before she skipped her way out of the woods, through the field, up the rope (which she untied and took with her), and back into her treehouse. She felt giddy. Jimmy was the most interesting person she had ever met.

(Later, especially after Year Seven, Artemis would wonder why Jimmy didn't try to stop her from skipping away that day. Didn't try to kill her. He did have a knife after all. But she never would ask him why. Not because she doesn't want to know, but because she's pretty sure she does know. But she also knows that Jim would never admit to finding her intriguing so early on in their relationship.)

\---

Everyone in that little neighborhood in Sussex would tell you that James Andrew Tobin had a shadow in the form of Artemis Constance Doyle. But if you asked them what they thought of the pair, they'd all say something different.

Mrs. Tobin thought they were precious. She'd always joke about hearing wedding bells whenever she found Artemis ringing her doorbell. Mr. Tobin would roll his eyes at his wife and mutter something about marriage statistics under his breath. Mr. Doyle would smile and say that they were "good friends, those two" but you could tell the smile was strained, that the friendship was something that worried him. Mrs. Ainsley, and a few other of the more gossipy neighbors would whisper about the odd pair and wonder what was wrong with Jimmy that a girl like Artemis, the girl with "something off" about her, would want to follow him around. Their teachers would say that the pair were some of the best students they ever had. So well behaved and both above their grade level in all subjects. Although, admittedly Artemis was smart "for her age" while Jimmy was smart "for a kid twice his age". The kids at school thought they were both weird. Artemis with her "strange behavior" and Jimmy with his "big words". It was no wonder the two freaks were friends, they'd say.

If you asked Artemis what she thought of Jimmy, she'd tell you that they were friends. Or, at least, that was what she was trying to make happen. She didn't really know how to go about doing that as she had never attempted it before. She thought proximity was good. Always walking with him. Sitting next to him on the bus, in class, at recess, etc. Then there was the talking, getting to know each other. Admittedly the conversations were rather one-sided, at least to begin with. Artemis would ask him a question and he'd give a short and vague response. Artemis would then answer her own question for herself before moving on to the next question and the cycle would repeat. Then she started going over "to play" with Jimmy. Which mostly consisted of sitting on the floor in Jimmy's room (it would be a while before he let her sit beside him on the bed) and quietly reading separate books. Sometimes Artemis would try to play with the toys he has, but she never found the fun in rolling around a toy car while Jimmy looked at her like she was being an idiot. Hanging out, talking and playing. That's what they did and that's what friends did. So they were friends then, right?

If you asked Jimmy what he thought of Artemis, he'd say she's annoying. And he wouldn't give any further information than that.

(Someday Artemis will ask Jim why he put up with her for so long. Jim will tell her that whether he likes it or not, humans are social beings that need companionship. And that she was tolerable, or at least more tolerable than anyone else in Sussex at the time.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Kleptomania, bullying, homophobic language, ableist language, (non-graphic) child murder, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior in children.

Throughout Primary School, Artemis slowly grew on Jimmy. He started to open up to her more, or at least he started to care less about keeping things hidden from her. She knew all about his books on poisons and serial killers that he kept hidden away in the locked drawer in his desk. Knew about his penchant for shoplifting things his parents would never want him owning, like his Swiss army knife or that bottle of antifreeze he has for some reason. Although Artemis doesn't really have a leg to stand on there due to her own issues with shoplifting and really just stealing in general. Jimmy told her once that she's a kleptomaniac. She looked it up and found that she doesn't exactly disagree with the diagnosis.

By the time she gets into the later years of Primary School she's learned a lot more about societal norms. She knows for sure now that she is odd, yes, but not necessarily a particularly bad person. You know, aside from the kleptomania. Jimmy, though? Jimmy is probably a bad person. Or, at least, he likely will become one. Honestly, she's just surprised the cat seemed to be a one time thing. And Artemis really does wonder sometimes if her never telling anyone about Jimmy also makes her a bad person as well. But she wonders purely out of curiosity. She knows she'd never mention it to anyone as she doesn't want to get Jimmy in trouble. He's her best friend after all. Her only friend, actually.

It was the first year of Secondary School, Year Seven, aged twelve, that Artemis knew for sure that Jimmy Tobin was a bad person.

\---

Carl Powers had always been a bully, no matter what the papers will try to say about him. And he was especially mean to Jimmy Tobin, the school's "biggest freak". Looking back, he probably wasn't the worst bully in the world, but he was pretty bad. He pushed Jimmy into the walls in the hallways. Shoved him to the ground at recess. Kicked and punched him if he could really get away with it. Called him names like freak and weirdo when they were younger, then faggot and retard when they were older.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly if one truly thinks about it, Carl never really did bother Artemis much despite her being the other "freak" in the school. He called her the same names when they were younger, but he seemed to grow out of it rather quickly. And he never bullied her physically. Well, until one day in Year Seven.

"Did you finish Mrs. Wheeler's essay yet?" Artemis asked, leaning against the locker next to Jimmy's while her friend got the books he needed and put away those he didn't.

Jimmy paused only long enough to give her this look that said 'what do you think?'.

"It's a fair question. We only just got it yesterday and it isn't even due for a week," Artemis said with a pout.

"Yes, Artemis, I finished the essay," Jimmy said, his lips twitching upwards in a fond smile for less than a second before the mask of indifference was back in place.

Artemis smiled back as he closed his locker and they turned to walk together to their first class of the day. Artemis, bumped his shoulder playfully and Jimmy rolled his eyes at her.

"Aw, look at the little freak couple," a voice sneered. They both froze as Carl Powers stepped into their path.

"What do you want, Carl?" Artemis asked, annoyed and suspicious of his unusual behavior. He usually left Jimmy alone when Artemis was around, but apparently not today.

Carl ignored her as he stepped in front of Jimmy.

"Heard you've been talking shit about me, retard," Carl said, trying to act threatening as he looked over Jimmy who was smaller despite being nearly a year older.

Jimmy just rolled his eyes and tried to step around Carl. He had long ago decided that Carl Powers wasn't worth his time. Carl shoved him into the lockers. Hard.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, faggot," Carl hissed at Jimmy as he pinned him to the lockers. Jimmy barely looked phased to the untrained eye, but Artemis knew him better than anyone.

"Carl, stop it! Leave him alone!" Artemis called, trying to pull Carl away from Jimmy. Carl reared back as soon as she touched him, obviously not expecting it.

"Aw, have your little girlfriend fighting your battles for you now, Tobin?" Carl laughed. "Don't know how a fairy like you got a girl like this doting after you," Carl continued, tugging on Artemis' braid to pull her closer to him. Artemis yelped, not in pain, just in shock that he would get physical with her.

Artemis froze as she saw Jimmy's reaction. Most people would barely notice any change in his expression, but Artemis wasn't most people. Pupils dilated, jaw clenched ever so slightly, and fingers twitching as if fighting the urge to curl his hands into fists. Jimmy was angry.

Just then the janitor turned the corner and yelled at Carl to "Leave that young lady alone and skedaddle, you little hooligan." Carl did as he was told, the janitor continued down the hall muttering something about "kids these days", and Jimmy and Artemis continued on towards their next class. Neither commented on the encounter.

\---

A couple weeks after that incident, Carl Powers drowned in a London pool.

Artemis didn't believe for a second that it was the accident that they say it was. She should be scared or feel guilty or something, but she doesn't feel any of that. Artemis feels nothing at all. Which scares her more than her murderous friend ever could. It had been so long since she'd felt so apathetic about anything.

In the weeks that followed, Artemis hung about the police station a lot more than she used to. No one blinked an eye at the sheriff's kid hanging about though. She kept an ear out for anything on the Carl Powers case. Everyone believed it to be an open and shut case of accidental drowning. Well, almost everyone. One kid, one London boy, couldn't let go of the fact that they never found Carl's shoes and kept calling to insist that they reopen the case. One London kid by the name of Sherlock Holmes.

Artemis, of course, mentioned it to Jimmy. If Jimmy was surprised she knew that he killed Carl, he didn't show it. They looked up Sherlock Holmes as best they could back in the eighties. They found several Holmes families. Only one in London. The kids, though, were named Mycroft and William. So, dead end there.

Still, they were curious about the child who saw through Jimmy's plan. The one who called himself Sherlock Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced underage sex (non explicit, consensual, and between teenagers), murder, implied/referenced drug use, implied/referenced alcoholism, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior in teenagers.

Things seemed to turn around for Artemis and Jimmy after Carl's death and as Secondary School continued.

Jimmy had started an experiment. Not like the one on the cat back when they were six, no. This was a psychological experiment. He decided to test just how much he could turn people's opinion of him around. So, Jimmy started to be, well, charming. He observed people, figured out their weaknesses, and used them to his advantage. It wasn't long before he had the whole school eating out of his hand. He wasn't exactly popular. He'd probably never escape his past as the weird kid so long as he remained in Sussex. But now he's the weird kid that people have started to like for reasons they don't seem to be entirely aware of.

Artemis also began to become more liked amongst their peers. Admittedly the fact that puberty was rather kind to her probably had a lot to do with why the male (and perhaps a bit of the female) population of the school started to suddenly be nice to her. The once plain-looking girl grew into a natural beauty. Her brown hair no longer held back in a braid now framed her face just so. Her hazel eyes, once described as empty and emotionless, were now apparently gorgeous gemstones of green and gold. Her full lips and early-developed breasts gave her a womanly appeal, but the light dusting of freckles kept her looking youthful and innocent. Or, at least, that's how other people described her. Personally, Artemis didn't really get it. Or, like, care at all about her looks.

But it wasn't just her looks, she was also getting better at socializing. Or "pretending to be ordinary" as Jimmy put it. A lot of teen movies and telly helped her to start acting like the person people expected her to be.

This all led to Artemis being mildly popular. Artemis probably could have been much more popular if she didn't choose to continue to hang about Jimmy. But he was her best friend and she refused to leave his side. Okay, maybe at this point she saw him as a bit more than just her best friend. She couldn't really help but to fall for him. He was… well, he was Jimmy. And she knew that he'd probably never return her feelings, that he was likely incapable of such emotions, but that didn't make the feelings go away. So she was left to silently pine for him while he remained seemingly oblivious to her feelings.

Until one day during Year Ten when they were both fifteen.

\---

They sat on Jimmy's bed doing homework together like any other Friday afternoon. The comfortable silence between them was only ever broken if Artemis was confused about something and asked Jimmy to explain it to her. They were doing math today, though, which was Artemis' best subject and she had yet to ask any questions. What was weird about today was that the silence wasn't quite as comfortable as it usually was. Jimmy kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and it was beginning to make her skin itch. But she said nothing as she continued making graphs in her notebook.

"We should have sex."

Artemis' arm jerked in surprise at Jimmy's words, her graph suddenly having a z-axis that it wasn't meant to. She looked at Jimmy who was watching her with an amused look in his eye as her mouth opened and closed several times without any words coming out. If she didn't know any better, she would have assumed he was joking. But she did know better and she knew for a fact that Jimmy didn't make jokes.

Artemis took a deep breath and forced her brain to shut up for a second so she could actually respond.

"Where is this coming from?" Was what she finally managed.

"Sex is all anyone at school seems really interested in talking about these days. I guess you could say I'm curious what the big deal is. We don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable. It was just a suggestion," Jimmy explained as casually as if they were discussing whether or not to watch a movie instead of whether or not to have sex.

Several minutes ticked by as Jimmy watched Artemis expectantly and she just blinked owlishly at him.

"I am going to need an answer at some point, Artemis," Jimmy chuckled, clearly still very amused by her reaction to this whole conversation.

"I…" Artemis began, but had no idea what to say, still completely thrown by this topic of conversation.

"I won't be offended if you say no, Artemis. We can just forget this conversation ever happened, okay?" Jimmy continued in his assurance that the choice was entirely hers to make.

"And if I say yes?" Artemis asked, voice shaking a bit.

"Are you?" Jimmy questioned back.

They held each other's gaze for a moment before Artemis slowly nodded.

Jimmy smirked as he quickly gathered up their homework supplies. He placed the pile on the floor beside the bed and then fished through the drawer in his side table. He placed the little foil square on top of the side table, presumably for easy access later, and closed the drawer.

Jimmy turned back to Artemis who looked a bit frozen in terror. Jimmy sighed and scooted closer to her. He took her hands and coaxed open her fists, rubbing his thumbs soothingly over the little crescent imprints on her palms.

"Relax, Artemis. I'll make it good for you, I promise," Jimmy whispered before leaning forward.

It was a simple first kiss. Chaste, even. There weren't any sparks or fireworks like they describe in books, but Artemis' heartbeat skyrocketed as their lips connected for the first time. Jimmy pulled away far too soon and Artemis found her lips chasing his. He grinned as he met her lips again, this kiss far more energetic than the last. (Looking back, Artemis will one day realize how awkward and sloppy their kissing was that day, but at the time it felt perfect.)

Somehow they ended up with Jimmy sprawled on his back and Artemis straddling his hips as they continued their clash of teeth and tongues. Artemis sat up and quickly pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it away. She froze with her hands behind her back, about to unlatch her bra, when she saw the dark look in Jimmy's eyes as he looked over her now bare skin. And not the sexy kind of dark look. No, all the lust had left his eyes the moment he saw them. Jimmy reached up and ran his hands over her skin as he examined it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jimmy asked after a moment as he traced his thumb lightly over a scar on her ribs. It could barely be seen under the black and blue discoloration her skin currently was.

"Because you never asked," Artemis told him, wincing when he accidentally pressed on her bruises a bit too hard. "Never ask anything, really. You're kind of a bloody awful friend," Artemis tried to joke. She hissed when Jimmy pressed too hard again, but this time she's inclined to believe it was on purpose.

Artemis finished unlatching her bra and tossed it aside, but barely gave Jimmy a moment to look at her exposed breasts before she was ducking down to kiss him again.

\---

It wasn't even a week later that Artemis arrived home from school one day to find her father dead in his armchair in the lounge. It was an open and shut case of a heart attack. Completely natural causes. No one noticed the recent injection mark on his inner elbow amongst all the other track marks there. If they had they might have considered that someone had injected an air bubble into his bloodstream. Artemis often wondered if the coroner is just incompetent or if they just preferred not draw attention to the sheriff's drug habit.

Her father's sister, Kelly, moved into the house and took up guardianship of her niece. Artemis didn't mind Aunt Kelly too much. She had a drinking problem, but at least she didn't beat the crap out of Artemis when she drank. No, instead Aunt Kelly was the "cool aunt" who offered to share it and tried to be her niece's friend. Which was fine by Artemis, as Kelly was all too happy to let Jimmy come over and spend unsupervised time in Artemis' room. Which was good considering that Jimmy's parents had instated a no closed door policy after Mrs. Tobin found the condom and wrapper in Jimmy's bed side bin.

Their relationship continued to be as it was before they had sex, the only difference being that now they just also had sex sometimes. Nothing had really changed. They didn't kiss outside of the bedroom. Jimmy didn't buy her flowers on Valentine's Day. Artemis didn't force him into a suit and make him take her to prom. They weren't a couple. They were still just the tactless boy-genius and the odd girl who followed him around like a shadow. They were still just Jimmy Tobin and Artemis Doyle.

It would be a while yet before things changed for the pair. But someday he will kiss her within an inch of her life in a public setting. Someday she'll wake up Valentine's Day morning and find her flat filled with so many flowers that he must have bought out a whole florist shop. Someday it'll be a chore to get him out of the suits he wears on a daily basis. Someday they'll be something resembling a couple. They will be the world's only consulting criminal and the woman that stands at his side. They will be Moriarty and Moriarty's Girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of criminal syndicates, murder, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

University was a weird, transitional time for the man born as James Andrew Tobin. He wasn't Jimmy anymore, but he wasn't quite yet Moriarty either. He was just Jim. Technically still James Tobin, that's what it said on his ID and school records, but if you asked anyone who knew him during that time, they'd all tell you that he's just Jim. It took some getting used to for Artemis, but she eventually adjusted to not only calling him Jim, but thinking of him as Jim as well.

Artemis thinks that Jim really liked being just Jim. Much like her own experience, it must have been so freeing to finally leave his childhood behind him. Jim wasn't the kid who made his classmates feel stupid with his big words. Jim wasn't the kid who showed no emotion when he was shoved to the ground and beaten up.

Instead, Jim was the guy who managed to charm even the grumpiest of professors. Jim was the guy who was more than happy to be DD if no one else was willing to. Jim was the guy who could be seen walking hand-in-hand with "that girl who looks like she could be a model". Jim was the guy who was everyone's friend. Jim was, well, he was Jim. Everyone knew Jim.

But perhaps the most important thing was that Jim was the guy who could get you drugs at a good rate.

Of course the why is obvious, it's the reason why Jim does anything. Because he was bored. And apparently drug dealing was, at the very least, somewhat entertaining. It's the how that eluded Artemis. Because Jim never involved Artemis with any sort of criminal dealings while they were at University. At the time she only vaguely knew what he was up to. It wouldn't be until later that he'd give her the details, that he'd tell her the story.

Jim met a guy at a party who, after plenty of charming small talk, got him connected with a local drug cartel who was looking for a charming guy like Jim, the kind of guy no one would think ill of, to start pushing drugs at the University. Jim, of course, did well selling the drugs and soon began to climb his way up the ladder of the cartel with his good work and his charming words. By the time they were in their final year at University, Jim had managed to charm his way not only into the leader's inner circle, but into the spot as his right-hand man.

Artemis, meanwhile, was also enjoying her time in University. While people did know that her name was Artemis, she was more often referred to simply as Jim's Girl. Jim's Girl was the kind of girlfriend anyone interested in females wished they had. Nice to look at, incredibly loyal, smart enough to hold conversation but not so smart that she makes you feel stupid, neither prudish nor a total slut, etc. And, as far as Jim's criminal colleagues were aware, none the wiser to Jim's criminal dealings.

But they weren't really a couple. Almost, but not quite. Because all of the cute coupley stuff they do starts and ends in the public eye. Because behind closed doors they're just Artemis and Jimmy again, even if she calls him Jim now. Apart from playing a couple in public now, their relationship is exactly as it was those last few years of Secondary School.

Things changed after they graduated from University.

They both walked out of graduation with diplomas in hand, degrees that would never be used, or at least never be used for their intended purpose. Artemis had ended up with a degree in Journalism because it was interesting enough and the field was easy enough to land some sort of bill-paying job in. Jim graduated with a psychology degree that Artemis is pretty sure he chose for the irony of it.

They begrudgingly went back to Sussex with their families after graduation, but only for the few weeks it took Jim to find a nice flat with a landlord who didn't ask questions. Mr. and Mrs. Tobin were so very proud of their son for being so frugal during University that he had enough savings from his tutoring job to afford a flat. They weren't quite as thrilled when he mentioned that Artemis would be moving in with him. They weren't thrilled at all when they discovered that said flat only had one bedroom. The Tobins were a bit old fashioned, it seemed, and weren't too keen on their son living with a woman out of wedlock. At least Aunt Kelly didn't mind.

The flat was rather nice, though the area of London it was in was a bit sketchy. It was already furnished, if a bit minimalistic in it's furnishings. Neither were particularly sentimental in general, let alone with objects. So, without much to unpack, the flat remained minimalistic. For a while. The problem with Artemis is that while she isn't in any way materialistic, she just sort of accumulates things. She can't help it. Everytime she goes out, she seems to come back with something in her purse or pocket. Something she definitely didn't pay for. Soon their flat was filled with all sorts of little baubles and trinkets.

The two did well as flatmates.

First and foremost because there was never an argument over money. When Jim had found Artemis looking for a job about a week after they had moved in together, he had told her not to bother unless she was doing so for enjoyment. Told her that he had everything covered. And when Jim said everything, he did mean everything. Artemis' bank account was only ever touched if she was out without Jim and decided to buy something. Which was a rare occurrence considering that most of the time she saw something she wanted, she'd just take it.

The two also just lived well together in general. Both liked to keep a clean and organized space, so they took care of their own messes. Both could cook well enough and neither minded cooking for the other. Neither minded silence so there was never someone trying to fill the silence with awkward chatter or small talk. Hell, they even liked the same music (mostly classical) so there weren't even arguments over turning down music. There just didn't seem to be any problems between them that most roommates complain about.

With no job and no social life outside of her roommate, Artemis would have been rather bored for the first year they lived together if Jim didn't start signing her up for classes. She was admittedly a bit confused as to why she was suddenly taking martial arts and weapons classes, but she wasn't about to complain about them as they kept her entertained.

During that year Jim was rather busy himself. Not long after Jim's graduation, the old leader of the cartel died tragically of a very familiar heart attack. Jim took over and soon after the cartel began to expand their horizons. Just into similar crimes such as weapons smuggling and human trafficking. It was sometime during these expansions that just Jim became Jim Moriarty. As the cartel gained power they started to make connections with other crime syndicates. And the Moriarty Criminal Network began to form. Near the end of the year, Jim dropped his responsibilities as cartel leader onto his right-hand man and moved on to the job he invented and would later title as consulting criminal.

They moved out of that flat after a year of living there. The pair who moved out were vastly different from the pair that moved in.

While they never acknowledged the shift in their relationship, they were at this point a couple for all intents and purposes. Because nothing about their relationship changed when the door closed behind them anymore. For whatever reason, Jim was now continuing to be affectionate even when they were alone. Perhaps it's not distance that makes the heart grow fonder, but domesticity.

Just Jim, second in command of a mediocre drug cartel was now Jim Moriarty, criminal mastermind with a surname that is beginning to be whispered in the criminal underworld.

Jim's Girl, perfect girlfriend and budding journalist was now Moriarty's Girl, second in command of the Moriarty Criminal Network.

It was just before they moved out that Jim decided to add Artemis to his criminal empire. It had been the plan all along, of course, but he had wanted her to be able to protect herself first as he knew the minute she got involved that anyone looking to hurt him would see her as a target. A year of nothing but martial arts and weapons classes and he was sure she'd be able to defend herself within reason.

With their new lives in place, there was only one thing really left to do.

James Andrew Tobin died in a car accident alongside his parents about a year after he graduated University. Kelly Doyle was killed in a home robbery gone wrong within the same month. Artemis Constance Doyle continues to live on as a freelance journalist in London.

Jim will never understand why Artemis insists on keeping her true identity alive. He'll never understand why she doesn't hate Artemis Doyle the same way he hates James Tobin. Artemis will never understand why he doesn't love James Tobin the same way she loved James Tobin. The way that she continues to love Jim Moriarty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have stuck it out through the backstory. Next chapter will finish up the last bit of backstory and begin our adventure alongside the show's timeline.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY IMPORTANT: We have reached the point in the story where we have met up with the Sherlock timeline. This means that from now on there will be points within this story where I will direct you to one of its side stories (that can be found in my series A Game For Three Storyverse). The name of the side story and chapter will be found in [brackets] at the point in which they will canonically happen in the timeline. I suggest you read them at that point as I may make reference to something from that scene in this story. The side stories will be full of mostly canonical scenes that I need to tweak to fit with my version of the story (though I do have a few noncanonical scenes planned). The separation between the scenes in this story and the scenes in those stories is due to the differing POV (I prefer not to switch POVs in the middle of a story). This story is written from Artemis' POV and Artemis is not in the scenes in the side stories. I have two side stories currently planned. Player Three: Sherlock Holmes will be from Sherlock's POV. Player Two: Jim Moriarty will be from Jim's POV. On the off chance that I decide to tweak a scene with none of these characters in them, then I will make a third side story titled NPCs. If a scene from Sherlock doesn't appear in any of the A Game For Three Storyverse stories and I haven't mentioned it's exclusion in an author's note, you can assume that it happened as it does canonically.
> 
> TW: Implied sexual content, murder, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

It had been three years since they had graduated from University. Three years of Jim building the Moriarty Criminal Network. Two years of Artemis helping him to do so. Two years since their past identities were killed off or put to the side. And it had been thirteen years since they had first heard the name Sherlock Holmes when they finally heard the name again.

Artemis had set up a Google alert for the name when Google alerts came into existence. She had almost forgotten about the thing by the time it finally pinged and brought Artemis to a website called the Science of Deduction. Turns out William Holmes was actually William Sherlock Scott Holmes. And he preferred to go by his first middle name.

They dug up everything they could on the man. The problem was that it all seemed rather ordinary for a posh London boy. The only thing that they had access to that allowed them to see just how extraordinary he actually was was his website. They began to follow the work of the self proclaimed consulting detective. Eventually they got eyes and ears on him as well. Which was rather hard considering how often the man moved flats. He just can't seem to find a landlord or landlady willing to put up with him for any sort of long lease.

It wouldn't be for another five years after the ping, eighteen years after they first heard his name, that their paths would truly cross with Sherlock Holmes.

\---

Artemis finds herself in a very specific cab, rattling off a random address that she doesn't intend to get to. She waits a few minutes until she leans forward and taps the dividing glass to get the cabbie's attention, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror.

"So, how does this work then?" Artemis asks him curiously.

"Sorry? How does what work, miss?" He asks her, his brows furrowed in confusion. The light turns green and he begins driving again, eyes back on the road.

"How do you get me to kill myself?" Artemis asks him casually, as though she were asking him nothing more than to turn the radio down.

There is a short silence before Jeff Hope speaks again.

"I mean no disrespect, ma'am, but I was under the impression that I'd be meeting with Mr. Moriarty," Hope tells her. "He said he wanted to see a demonstration for himself."

"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Hope," Artemis tells him as she adjusts the glasses on her face. "Mr. Moriarty will be watching."

Jim chuckles in her ear piece.

Hope brings her to some unassuming office buildings. He gets out of the cab and opens her door for her.

"Why here?" Artemis asks him as she looks at the office buildings over his shoulder.

"It's open. Cleaners are in. One thing about being a cabbie, you always know a nice quiet spot for a murder," Hope explains.

"I see," Artemis hums as she grabs her bag. "And how do you get them to follow you into the building?" Artemis questions.

"With this," Hope tells her, pulling out a gun.

Artemis' eyes narrow slightly as she scrutinizes the gun. First and foremost because she realizes that it's fake. But also because it isn't pointed at her.

"Mr. Hope, in order for this to work I am going to need you to treat this as if it were real. You are to do nothing to ensure my safety, is that understood?"

Hope hesitates because of course he does. Who in their right mind would point a gun, or at least what looks like one, at Moriarty's Girl?

"Mr. Moriarty assures you that you have his pardon," Artemis assures, despite Jim staying silent in her ear.

Hope nods after a moment and points the fake gun at Artemis before leading her into the building. They sit at a desk in a random cubicle.

"We're going to play a game now," Hope tells her and pulls out a bottle with some sort of pill in it. He waits a moment before pulling out a second, identical bottle. Then he explains the rules of the game. One poison pill and one harmless pill. She chooses one and he takes the other. Then they take the pills at the same time. Simple enough.

"Okay," Artemis says, drawing out the end of the word. "And how exactly do you plan to continuously win this coin flip of a game?"

"With one move," he tells her, holding up a finger before using that same finger to push one of the bottles towards her.

"Ah, I see," Artemis says as Hope pulls his arm back to his side and sits back. "We're playing a mind game, then." She looks between the two bottles and has absolutely no idea which bottle could possibly be which. Still seems like luck to her. "And you're positive that this will work? Continuously?"

"Oh, I'd bet my life on it, ma'am. In fact, that's what I plan to do," Hope tells her with a grin that makes her skin crawl.

Artemis continues to glance between the bottles as she taps out a message to Jim in Morse code. 'Yes or no?'

"Oh, most definitely. I like him. And I think a certain consulting detective we know will also find him entertaining," Jim says in her ear. Artemis' brows raise minutely at that. They had been looking for a case for a while that would be good to both test Sherlock and to send him a message. "I am curious, though. Do you know which bottle is which?"

Artemis taps out 'Do you?'.

"I do," Jim tells her as he chuckles. "But I'll take that as a no from you. So, Artemis, you just got picked up by a cabbie with a gun and a game to play. How do you survive it?"

Artemis tilts her head as she considers the bottles in front of her. Of course she could just walk away. It's not like the man could actually shoot her. But where would be the fun in that?

Artemis reaches one hand out towards the bottle nearest Hope and takes hold of it. But before Hope can take the other bottle, her other hand grabs that one as well. Then, quick as a whip, she mixes up the bottles. Far too quickly for Hope to keep track of, but she remembers which one he pushed forwards and which one he didn't. She settles them before herself and turns a smirk up at the astonished man across from her.

"Still want to play the game, Mr. Hope?" Artemis questions. "I believe it's my move now." She pushes one of the bottles towards him in a mimicry of his own move.

"If this were real, then I could just shoot you," Hope tells her.

"Oh, please do," Artemis laughs. "I do believe the agreement was not to ensure my safety in any way."

Hope stares at her for a moment before he pulls the trigger and the tip of the barrel lights like a lighter.

"Don't worry, Mr. Hope, it actually is a very nice prop. Should work on most people, I'm just not most people," Artemis assures him as she stands up. She pockets the pill bottles, mentally cataloguing which is which as she puts them into separate pockets. "Mr. Moriarty will be in touch to discuss the finer details of your sponsorship, assuming the tests on these pills prove that they are as you say they are. One poison. One harmless." He could always be completely lying and they could both be poison with him having already taken the antidote. How terribly disappointing that would be. "Now, I do believe I'm in need of a cab, Mr. Hope."

\---

A few days later, Artemis receives an email with the test results of the pills. She hums to herself as she closes the laptop and heads out into the lounge of the safehouse that she and Jim are currently using. They don't really have any sort of permanent residence anymore. Hazard of the job.

Jim is sitting in the lounge, boredly flipping through the channels. Artemis sits down on the coffee table, blocking his view of the screen.

"I was watching that," Jim tells her, but he obviously doesn't care as he himself is the one to turn the telly off altogether.

"I don't care about the why. I don't want your big fancy explanations that prove how smart you are. I just want a simple answer," Artemis prefaces her question. "So, you're sitting across a table from Jeff Hope, playing his game. Assuming you weren't feeling particularly suicidal that day-" Jim chuckles "-which pill would you choose?"

"The one closer to Hope," Jim answers her simply.

"Interesting," Artemis hums before getting up to leave.

Jim rolls his eyes at her as he snatches her wrist to stop her leaving.

"So, tell me, doctor," Jim all but purrs as he traces the pulse point on her wrist with his thumb. "Am I going to make it?"

Artemis grins as she straddles his lap.

"Oh, Mr. Moriarty, I do believe you're going to be just fine," she purrs right back.

\---

"The body of Beth Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found late last night on a building site in Greater London. Preliminary investigations suggest that this is suicide. We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffrey Patterson and James Phillimore. In the light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now," Sgt. Sally Donovan finishes her introduction to the press conference.

As the room begins to bustle with reporters trying to get their questions heard, Artemis goes split screen on her laptop to continue watching the conference as she makes the bank transfer to Hope's account from one of their many untraceable accounts. The transfer goes through quickly and Artemis puts the conference back into full screen mode as she sips from her tea cup.

"-but we're looking for it. There has to be one," DI Lestrade was saying in answer to a question about what connects the victims.

Suddenly a lot of phones go off at once.

"If you've all got texts, please ignore them," Sgt. Donovan says, looking very annoyed.

"Just says 'Wrong'," one of the reporters says.

Artemis grins into her tea cup. Then one of her earbuds is suddenly tugged out of her ear.

"What are you grinning about?" Jim asks as he sits down next to her. He places one plate with breakfast beside her laptop and another in front of him.

"It seems our favorite consulting detective has taken an interest in our serial killer cabbie," Artemis tells him.

Jim pulls her earbuds out from where they are plugged into her laptop.

"-got our best people investigating-" Lestrade's voice comes over the laptop speakers just as he is cut off by the phone's going off again.

Jim hums in approval as he snaps a piece of bacon in half.

"Took him long enough," Jim mutters and pops a piece of bacon in his mouth.

Artemis hums her agreement as she snatches a piece of bacon off of her own plate.

\---

[Player Three: Sherlock Holmes - Chapter 1]

\---

Artemis thanks their informant at Scotland Yard before she hangs up and goes looking for Jim. She finds him at the dining room table, typing away at his laptop.

"Jeff Hope is dead," Artemis informs him.

"Is he?" Jim questions, amusement in his voice, but he doesn't stop typing or look away from the laptop.

"Yep," Artemis says, popping the 'p' and dropping into the seat across from him. "He got shot."

Jim stops typing. Several moments of silence pass as he stares blankly at his screen.

"Jim? What's going on in that genius brain of yours?" Artemis asks, waving a hand in front of his face.

"I believe Dr. John Watson might warrant some further research," Jim says as his hands start to move across the keys again.

Artemis hums her agreement.

They had been made aware of Dr. John Watson by their eyes and ears on Baker Street, Sherlock's most recent place of residence. They had done a basic background on him, but he hadn't peaked their interest that much. After all, he wouldn't be the first person to be seen hanging about Sherlock. But he is the first person to show such loyalty and dedication to the man.

\---

A little over a month later, Artemis heads into their current safehouse and breezes by the lounge where Jim is either watching a movie or show, or supervising an actual bank heist. She doesn't know which since she barely caught a glimpse before heading into the kitchen to get a drink.

"General Shan sends her regards," Artemis calls out as she scans over the contents of the fridge before grabbing a beer that costs more than any beer from a bottle probably should.

"Oh? And how is Soo Lin Yao doing?" Jim calls back.

"Wouldn't know," Artemis tells him as she walks into the lounge. The screen is paused. Movie, then. "It doesn't look like she got home last night."

Artemis places the lucky cat she had been carrying on the coffee table before dropping in the spot next to Jim. She pops the cap off of her beer with the bottle opener on her keychain.

"What's that?" Jim asks, giving the lucky cat an odd look.

"It's a lucky cat," Artemis answers simply and takes a swig of her beer.

"I know that, but what's it for?" Jim says with an eye roll.

"I would assume it's for luck," Artemis says, amused by Jim's bafflement at the knick knack in front of him.

Jim gives her an unamused look and Artemis laughs.

"The lady at the shop was insistent that I buy one," she explains.

"So naturally you stole it," Jim guesses.

"Naturally," Artemis confirms, pecking his cheek and reaching for the remote.

"So long as you don't bring an actual cat home," Jim says with a shrug as he settles back into the couch.

"Why? Afraid you'll have the impulse to dissect it?" Artemis teases him.

Jim's face scrunches in disgust at the actions of his younger self. He hates getting his hands dirty these days.

Artemis giggles as she presses play on the remote and settles into Jim's side to watch the movie.

\---

It wasn't long until the discovery of the Black Lotus Crime Syndicate. The police only had a couple of their henchmen, but Jim wasn't willing to take the risk of them finding General Shan who could be coaxed to describe Artemis. In retrospect, Artemis probably shouldn't have met with the woman, or any clients in the London area.

Jim sent Sebastian out to take care of General Shan. While most people know Sebastian Moran as Lord Moran, Member of Parliament, Artemis and Jim know him as M, one of the world's most skilled snipers for hire. He also happens to be one of the two contacts in Artemis' phone that she ever uses for non-business related calls. He's a good drinking buddy.

Jim and Artemis are sitting at the dining room table with Chinese takeout, because Jim loves a theme, while they speak with General Shan for the final time.

"Without you, without your assistance, we would not have found passage into London. You have my thanks," General Shan is saying as Artemis slurps her chow mein. She isn't worried about the noise, Jim has both his video and audio disabled for the call.

Artemis rolls her eyes at Jim's dramatics as he types into the chat.

M_GRATITUDE IS MEANINGLESS  
M_IT IS ONLY THE EXPECTATION OF FURTHER FAVOURS

General Shan's face falls in fear.

"We did not anticipate…" General Shan trails off, voice shaking. "We did not know this man would come. This Sherlock Holmes," General Shan continues, spitting the name out as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. The woman's face lights with realization and horror. "And now your safety is compromised."

M_THEY CANNOT TRACE THIS BACK TO ME

"I will not reveal your identity," General Shan assures, taking the words as a threat rather than the fact that they actually were.

M_I AM CERTAIN.

"Take the shot," Jim mutters.

A red dot appears on General Shan's forehead. Artemis' nose scrunches as the woman's head all but explodes.

"Did you have to use such a high powered rifle, Seb? I was having such a nice dinner," Artemis sighs.

Sebastian's laughter rings out of Jim's phone that was set beside his laptop. Jim ends the call without saying goodbye.

Jim closes out of the online chat program and shuts his laptop. He grabs a takeout container, plucks out a piece of some type of meat and pops it in his mouth, not at all put off by the gruesome image they had just witnessed.

"I think-" Jim starts after he swallows his bite "-that it's about time we play a little game with our favorite consulting detective."

"Oh? And what did you have in mind?" Artemis asks excitedly. Eighteen years is such a long time to wait to meet someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this story, John and Sarah never went on a second date.
> 
> TW: Deception and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

Mrs. Hudson, the lovely landlady that had answered the door, leads Artemis up the creaking stairs and through the door marked 221B. Artemis' eyes quickly scan the messy lounge, the glimpse of the kitchen filled with lab supplies, and the hallway with closed doors she knows from the floor plans lead to a bathroom and bedroom. Her eyes then quickly turn back to the lounge with the two men sitting in armchairs. The two men she has only seen pictures of until today. Sherlock doesn't even look up from his rapid typing at his laptop. John looks up from his paper and takes an immediate interest as he does a double take of the woman at his door.

"Can't you hear the doorbell?" Mrs. Hudson asks them.

"No, I shot it," Sherlock says, still not looking away from the screen.

Artemis forces herself to look surprised, and perhaps slightly alarmed, by this rather than the amusement she feels.

"You what?" Mrs. Hudson asks, sounding very alarmed.

"Shot it. It interrupted my thinking," Sherlock clarifies and finally glances up. Just a glance, just out of the corner of his eye for barely a second. "Not interested in an interview. Go away."

"Sorry?" Artemis asks, her voice full of confusion that she isn't actually feeling.

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson admonishes at the same time.

John quickly stands up, putting his newspaper carelessly to the side before walking towards the pretty young woman standing just inside his door.

"Sorry, ignore him," John says and holds out his hand. "John Watson."

Artemis' eyes light with recognition as she smiles at John and shakes his proffered hand.

"Artemis Doyle. Pleasure," Artemis introduces before pulling her hand back. Then her brows scrunch in confusion and she looks over John's shoulder towards Sherlock. "Sorry, how did you know I was a journalist?"

"Professional attire. Pencil behind your ear and the small notepad sticking out of your left-hand pocket. The bulge in your right-hand pocket is the correct size and shape for that of a Dictaphone. Wasn't a hard leap to make," Sherlock explains. "I'm not giving interviews. Goodbye," he dismisses her. Still never looking away from the screen or stopping typing.

Artemis' brows knit together once again.

"Sorry, who are you?"

Well, that's enough to do it. Sherlock's fingers freeze over the keys and he finally truly turns to look at the woman at the door.

"Sherlock Holmes," he answers slowly, his voice sounding ever so slightly confused.

"Ah, well, um," Artemis stutters out awkwardly before she turns her eyes back to John. "I was actually hoping to interview you, Dr. Watson."

"Me?" John asks in confusion.

"Him?" Sherlock questions, voice now sounding almost offended at being brushed off.

"Yes, I'm doing a piece on soldiers who have turned their lives around after being medically discharged. Your name came up while I was asking around at the VA," Artemis explains. "Sorry, I would have contacted you ahead of time, but I find that people tend to ignore emails from nosy journalists."

John laughs as he steps aside to gesture her into the room and towards the sofa. As she sits down, John offers her tea to which she politely declines and John takes the spot next to her.

"So, what newspaper are you with?" John asks.

Artemis opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off before she can even make a sound.

"Freelance."

The pair on the sofa look to Sherlock who rolls his eyes.

"She would have given you her credentials when introducing herself if she had any," Sherlock explains before turning back to his laptop and typing again, apparently losing interest in the conversation.

Artemis glares at the implication that just because she's freelance means she has no credentials before turning back to John.

"I've worked with Daily Mail a few times before and they asked me to do this piece for them," she explains to John.

"Right, fire away, then," John says, obviously deciding to do the interview.

Artemis gets his consent to record it and the interview begins. Her questions steer John to discuss what he did as a soldier, then about his injury and rehabilitation, then on to his transition into civilian life. Artemis, of course, already knows the answer to every question she asks.

The interview only really becomes of any interest to Artemis when she asks him what he does when he isn't working at the clinic.

"I, uh," John hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. "I sometimes help Sherlock with his cases."

Sherlock's typing slows marginally at his name as he seems to tune into the conversation.

"Cases?" Artemis questions curiously.

"Yes, Sherlock is a consulting detective," John answers.

"Not a consulting detective, John. The consulting detective. Only one in the world, I invented the job," Sherlock corrects, stopping his typing only as long as it takes to speak.

"He's like a private investigator, but sometimes consults with the police if they need his help," John explains, rolling his eyes at Sherlock.

"So you solve crimes?" Artemis clarifies, voice full of amusement.

"Yes. We solve crimes," John confirms.

"Interesting," Artemis compliments. "And you two are…?" Artemis lets her voice trail off so he can fill in the blank as she glances between the two.

"Flatmates," John is quick to clarify. "Just flatmates."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply-" Artemis begins.

"No, it's fine. Sorry," John apologizes as well, wincing at the misunderstanding.

After an awkward silence, Artemis reaches over to turn off the Dictaphone. She has to seriously fight down the urge to sleight of hand something along with it.

"Right then, I believe that's everything I need. Would you like me to contact you when the story prints?"

They exchange contact information and John leads her to the door.

"Uh, Artemis?" John asks before she steps out. She had insisted that John call her by her first name at the beginning of the interview and he had insisted the same. "Would you, um, would you like to grab a coffee sometime? With me?"

Artemis sees Sherlock rolling his eyes out of the corner of her eye.

"Sure, John. That sounds lovely," Artemis says with a pleasant smile.

Phase one: Attract John Watson. Complete.

\---

After what was actually not a horrible coffee date with John, they walk out of the café with John holding the door open for Artemis.

"This was nice, wasn't it?" John asks her and Artemis nods as she looks up and down the street for a cab. "Would you, maybe, like to go out again sometime?"

Artemis worries her lip and avoids John's eyes for a moment before she sighs and meets his hopeful gaze.

"Look, John, you're great and I did really have a nice time," Artemis is quick to assure him. "I'm just not really the girlfriend kind. Bit of a commit-o-phobe," Artemis chuckles self-deprecatingly.

"Right, yeah, no, I get it," John says and now he's the one avoiding eye contact.

Artemis takes his hand in hers to get him to look at her.

"But I did mean it. I did have a nice time. And I'd love to do this again sometime. Just, like, platonically," Artemis explains. "I'd like for us to be friends, John."

John takes a moment before he nods.

"Yeah. Yeah, actually, you know what, that's a great idea. I could use a normal friend," John decides with a chuckle.

Artemis almost feels bad that she's tricking him into thinking that she's the normal friend he apparently needs. Almost.

Artemis grins before turning to hail a cab which quickly pulls up. She pulls open the door but pauses before she gets in.

"Well then, feel free to call me whenever you need a bit of normal in your life," she tells him with a wink before sliding into the cab.

She tells the cabbie the address of the only flat she owns that is actually in her name and that she's been staying in for about a week now to give it a lived-in feel to it.

Phase two: Befriend John Watson. Complete.

\---

A couple weeks into her friendship with John and she's having tea in his flat. They usually go out or to her flat, John seems to be worried about Sherlock scaring her off or something, but today she had been in the neighborhood and called to ask if she could stop by. John had tried to warn her off, but Artemis had insisted. She understood why John had asked her not to come when she arrived and found Sherlock to be experimenting with eyeballs in the kitchen. It amused her more than anything.

Not long after Artemis had arrived, Mrs. Hudson peeks into the lounge.

"John, dear, would you mind helping me change a lightbulb down in my kitchen? It's gone out."

John hesitates, glancing between Sherlock and Artemis.

"Oh, go ahead. I'll be fine. I'm sure Sherlock can keep me entertained until you get back," Artemis insists.

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of," John mutters, but gets up anyway to help Mrs. Hudson. He really has a far too submissive nature.

Almost as soon as the door closes behind John, Sherlock is walking into the lounge, dragging a chair that John mentioned as being the "client chair" over so he can sit across from where Artemis is sitting on the sofa. Sherlock then presses the pads of his fingers together in front of his face, peering over his hands at Artemis.

"Can I help you with something?" Artemis asks after a silent moment, clearly amused.

"What are your intentions for your relationship with John Watson?"

"Sorry?" Artemis laughs, fighting the urge to snort.

"I asked-" Sherlock starts, but Artemis waves him off.

"Yes, I heard you the first time. Sorry, it's just odd to hear the 'dad speech' from a flatmate," Artemis says, quieting her chuckles.

"'Dad speech'?" Sherlock questions.

"Yeah, you know, the 'dad speech'?" Artemis fishes but Sherlock just stares at her blankly. "Have you never met a girlfriend's parents before?" Artemis asks him.

"Considering that I have never had a girlfriend before, that would be most impossible," Sherlock tells her.

"Never?" Artemis asks, brows up to her hairline. Sherlock nods his confirmation. "Boyfriend?" Artemis tries. Sherlock shakes his head. "Any sort of romantic or sexual relationship at all?"

"Well now you're just being nosy," Sherlock tells her, evading the question.

Artemis rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her tea.

"The 'dad speech' is a stereotypical speech that a father would give to their daughter's prospective suitor," Artemis explains. "One of the more popular lines of questioning is in order to discover if the prospective suitor's intentions are pure."

"Ah, I see. And my asking you about your intentions with John was similar to that. However, John isn't a woman, nor am I his father," Sherlock points out.

"And I'm not a prospective suitor. So why are we having this conversation?" Artemis asks as she reaches for her tea cup once more.

"And why is that?"

Artemis pauses with the cup halfway to her lips.

"Why is what?"

"Well," Sherlock begins, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Why aren't you interested in John? He's a… decent potential romantic partner. He's a kind individual who understands sentiment and emotions better than most. Conventionally slightly more attractive than the average man. Can hold an interesting enough conversation. Has a stable job and lives in a nice flat-"

"Sounds like you want to date him," Artemis giggles into her tea cup. As Sherlock's cheeks tinge the slightest shade of pink, Artemis continues. "That's all well and good for people looking for a good life partner, but that's not really my type." Artemis then gets a suggestive lilt in her voice and holds Sherlock's gaze as she leans in. "I prefer my men on the dangerous side. Perhaps a tad insane."

Sherlock blinks at her, clearly taken off guard by being so blatantly flirted with. Before he can respond, footsteps are heard jogging up the stairs and John enters the room as Artemis leans back into a relaxed position.

"Is something burning?"

Artemis smirks into her tea cup as Sherlock hurries over to put out the fire in the kitchen.

Phase Three: Befriend Sherlock Holmes. In-progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Deception, kleptomania, hostages, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

Jim groans as Artemis tries to reach for her ringing phone.

"Let it go to voicemail," Jim tells her as he continues to pin her down against the bed.

"Jim, I help run a very successful criminal network. That could literally be any number of people on interpol's most wanted list, and you want me to let it go to voicemail?" Artemis argues for argument's sake.

"Yes, because that's the ringtone you assigned John Watson's number. I'm sure he can wait," Jim says as he bends back down to continue his assault just below her collarbone. Marks had to be easily coverable these days.

Artemis rolls her eyes as she reaches out again and just manages to reach her phone. She catches it on the final ring before it would go to voicemail. Jim pouts against her skin.

"Hi, John. What's up?" Artemis greets.

"Hey, Artemis. Sorry, I know it's late, but can I come over?" John asks in the voice she recognizes as his 'Sherlock has done something ridiculous again' voice. She can hear the sounds of the tube in the background.

"Come over?" Artemis says for Jim's sake who quickly sits up and shakes his head 'no'. "Yeah, sure. How long do you think it'll take you to get here?" Artemis shoos Jim away. Probably the only person ever who could do such a thing and live to tell the tale.

"I'm on the tube now, so probably about ten minutes," John tells her.

"Ten minutes. Got it. See you soon," Artemis says and quickly hangs up the phone.

"Why would you do that?" Jim complains as he hurries to redress himself.

"Because he was already on his way here," she tells him, getting up to get into some pajamas so it looks like she had been about to head to bed when John called.

"But the plan-" Jim starts angrily.

"I'll think of something, it'll be fine," Artemis snaps back, both of them frustrated with the situation.

They both glare at each other for a moment before Artemis relents.

"Sorry. I just want to be on John's good side as the game plays out. I will think of something. Promise," Artemis explains, voice small.

"I trust you, Artemis. You know I do. Don't make me regret it just because you're getting sentimental over your little soldier friend," Jim sighs as he finishes straightening out his suit.

"When have I ever let you down?" Artemis asks rhetorically.

Jim's lips twitch into a smile for half a second and he places a light kiss to Artemis' lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," he says before quickly escaping the flat.

\---

The next morning, Artemis, already dressed for the day, brings John a cup of coffee made just how he likes it.

"Sorry about the sofa," Artemis apologizes. "I've fallen asleep on it enough times to know it's not a particularly kind surface for an extended period of time."

"It's fine, really. Thanks," John says as she hands him the coffee. "And thanks for last night, too. Sorry to be a bother."

"Oh, you're never a bother, John," Artemis says, waving him off as she reaches for the telly remote. Hopefully they'll play a story about the explosion last night. "If I had to live with Sherlock Holmes, I'm sure I'd need somewhere to escape to as well."

Honestly, Artemis was amused more than anything by Sherlock's antics. Well, the shooting the wall part was amusing. The severed head in the fridge? Not so much. Artemis is truly grateful that Jim quickly outgrew his gross experiments phase.

Artemis flicks on the telly and switches it to a news station. They're just finishing up a report on "The Lost Vermeer". Artemis nearly snorts at the irony.

"Back now to our main story. There's been a massive explosion in central London…" the news anchor reports as live footage of the carnage is shown on screen. The headline reads 'House destroyed on Baker St'.

"Oh my God!" Artemis gasps as John drops his coffee cup.

"Shit! Sorry-" John curses, but Artemis cuts him off as she shoves his jacket into his hands.

"Jesus. Fuck," Artemis hisses with panic in her voice. "John, my china is the last thing I'm worried about right now." Artemis helps him to his feet and they both rush out the door.

\---

John's shoulders relax only marginally when they arrive to find that the explosion was across the street. They manage to get through the crowd control easily enough. As John jogs up the stairs to 221B, Artemis takes off her coat and puts it on the rack by the front door before going in to check on Mrs. Hudson who assures her that she is fine.

"...sofa, Sherlock. It was the sofa," a voice Artemis doesn't recognize echoes out of the open door to 221B when she gets to the correct landing.

"Oh, yes, of course," Sherlock is muttering just as Artemis enters the room.

"Right, so you're perfectly fine," Artemis observes. "Couldn't possibly have phoned your closest friend to let him know that you're okay before he hears about the explosion from the telly and nearly has a heart attack in my flat."

"Good morning, Artemis," Sherlock greets her boredly as he ignores her rant.

"Mrs. Hudson's fine, by the way," Artemis informs John. "I checked in with her while you were busy with your boyfriend."

"We're not-" John starts.

"Who's this?" Artemis asks, indicating the man she knows to be Mycroft Holmes.

"Oh, right, you haven't met yet. Artemis, this is Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's brother. Mycroft, this is-" John begins to introduce, but is cut off by Mycroft.

"Artemis Constance Doyle. Freelance journalist, though recently hired part-time at the Daily Mail. Grew up in Sussex. Journalism degree from the University of London. Living in a small flat in Bayswater. And has been seen coming and going from Baker Street as of late," Mycroft finishes for John.

"Ah, it runs in the family then, does it?" Artemis comments as she takes a seat on the coffee table rather than the sofa.

"What does?" Mycroft questions.

"Being a nosy pain in the arse," Artemis casually insults.

"Says the journalist," Mycroft shoots back.

"Touché," Artemis laughs, an amused grin stretched across her face.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to make yourself scarce, Ms. Doyle, we have classified matters to discuss," Mycroft says, sounding bored.

"Right. You're a government-" Artemis gestures at Mycroft's apparel as she searches for a job title that alludes her "-man." Artemis gets up and heads towards the door. "Guess I'll be off then. Glad you aren't dead, Sherlock. Bye, John."

Artemis makes it two steps out the door before she's called back in.

"Artemis," Sherlock's voice calls out, not loudly but pitched just loud enough that she couldn't act like she didn't hear him.

"Yes?" Artemis asks innocently, peeking around the doorframe.

Sherlock isn't even looking at her, still glaring at his brother, as he simply holds out his hand.

"Ashtray."

Artemis sighs as she reaches into the front pocket of her bag. She crosses the room and puts the small granite ashtray into his hand.

"See a therapist," is all he comments.

Artemis rolls her eyes and heads back out the door. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between them. Sherlock had spotted her kleptomania the first time she ever attempted to take something from the flat.

She goes down the street and waits until no one but Mrs. Hudson is at the flat. The plan had been to "pop in for a visit" when she knew they'd be at the station. Now she had had to improvise a reason to go back so soon after leaving.

Mycroft leaves first, followed soon after by Sherlock and John. Once the boys' cab is no longer in sight, Artemis makes her way back to 221 Baker Street and knocks on the door. Mrs. Hudson is quick to answer it.

"Sorry, Mrs. Hudson, I just left my coat," Artemis explains as she gestures to said coat that she very purposefully left behind.

"Oh, of course, dear," Mrs. Hudson says, stepping aside to let Artemis in. "Are you off to work then, love?"

"Hm?" Artemis hums as she shrugs on her coat. Mrs. Hudson gestures to her bag and attire. "Oh, that. I was going to, but then we saw the news. I emailed my boss on the way over to get the day off just in case, well…" Artemis trails off, allowing Mrs. Hudson to fill in the blank.

"Oh, well then would you like to stay for tea, dear?" Mrs. Hudson offers because she is so stereotypically British.

Artemis smiles.

"I would love that."

\---

Getting the picture and planting the shoes was fairly easy after that. Artemis excused herself to the loo while Mrs. Hudson bustled around to get the tea prepared. With her distracted, it wasn't hard to swipe the key to 221C that she left on the hook by the kitchen door. She got in, took the picture, left the shoes, and got out. She sent the picture to Jim on her way back to the kitchen. She easily put the key back when Mrs. Hudson went searching her pantry for the honey Artemis requested and Artemis admired the pictures on the wall beside the hook the key goes on.

Artemis is still having tea with Mrs. Hudson when the boys get back from Scotland Yard. The front door opens and shuts loudly and the boys, plus Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, rush past the kitchen doorway. Artemis looks to Mrs. Hudson, who doesn't seem at all concerned until Sherlock yells for her to bring him the key to 221C. As Mrs. Hudson looks for the key, as she has forgotten where she left it, Artemis wanders down the hall.

"What's this about?" Artemis asks curiously.

"Artemis, what are you doing here?" John questions.

"Having tea with Mrs. Hudson. So, what's happening?" Artemis asks, not letting John distract her from her line of questioning.

Mrs. Hudson arrives with the key and hands it to Sherlock.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, miss. Police business," Lestrade tells her.

"The door's been opened recently," Sherlock mutters as he inspects the lock before unlocking it.

Very recently, Artemis can't help but think.

"No, can't be. That's the only key," Mrs. Hudson denies.

Artemis mentally thanks Mrs. Hudson for letting her borrow it.

Mrs. Hudson rambles about basements and mold as Sherlock gets the door open.

The three men hurry through the door, Lestrade shutting it behind him as they ignore Mrs. Hudson. Artemis rolls her eyes, reopens the door, and follows after them, also ignoring Mrs. Hudson.

"He's a bomber, remember," John is saying as Artemis appears in the doorway.

"Who's a bomber?"

John and Lestrade jump.

"Artemis," John sighs. "You shouldn't be here. This could be dangerous."

"Sounds like a scoop to me," Artemis grins.

"Oh, great, she's a journalist," Lestrade sighs.

"Would everyone be quiet for five seconds!" Sherlock hisses at them all.

It's tense as they watch Sherlock slowly crouch over the shoes.

That tension is soon broken when the phone goes off in Sherlock's pocket, causing everyone to jump at the sudden noise.

Sherlock answers the phone and must put it on speaker as he holds it in front of him.

"Hello," Sherlock says quietly.

"H-Hello," a woman's voice stutters out of the phone. "...sexy." Artemis bites her tongue hard to keep from laughing.

"Who is this?" Sherlock questions.

"I've… sent you… a little puzzle… just to say hi," the woman continues slowly, voice shaking and breath hitching.

"Who's talking? Why are you crying?" Sherlock asks.

"I'm not crying… I'm typing… and this… stupid bitch… is reading it out," the woman answers, still crying.

"The curtain rises," Sherlock mutters to himself.

"What?" John asks, confused.

"Nothing," Sherlock tries to brush past it, but John continues to question him.

"No, what did you mean?"

"I've been expecting this for some time," Sherlock tells John.

Artemis can't help but think that she has been expecting it for so much longer.

"Twelve hours… to solve… my puzzle, Sherlock," the woman says. "...or I'm going… to be… so naughty."

The line goes dead.

"Alright, somebody better start explaining what the hell is going on here," Artemis demands.

John and Lestrade turn to her with grim looks while Sherlock's gaze stays focused on the shoes.

\---

It took some convincing, but Artemis managed to worm her way into going with them to St. Bart's. Hard to say no to someone who refused to take no for an answer. John was worried for Artemis' safety. Sherlock was worried that Artemis would annoy him. They came to an agreement when Artemis promised she'd duck out at any sign of actual danger and that she'd be quiet and not steal anything from the morgue.

After a brief introduction to Molly Hooper, who seemed wary of Artemis, they ended up in the lab where Sherlock took samples from the bottom of the shoes and began running tests.

John told Artemis what they currently knew, which wasn't much more than what she had heard down in 221C. Basically just what happened at the police station. The phone, the pips, the picture, etc. Artemis, ever the good journalist, took notes as he did so.

Now, Artemis turns back and forth on a stool as Sherlock gazes into a microscope. It hasn't even been an hour yet and already she's bored and can't sit still. How the hell Sebastian is going to keep himself from going insane, laying in wait for hours on end, is beyond her.

"So, who'd you think it was?" John finally speaks up.

A phone alert goes off near Sherlock. Sherlock hums for clarification from John, not reacting to what must be his phone.

"The woman on the phone. The crying woman," John clarifies.

"Oh, she doesn't matter. She's just a hostage. No lead there," Sherlock says callously, not even looking up from the microscope.

"For God's sake, I wasn't thinking about leads," John says, sounding exasperated.

"You're not going to be of much use to her," Sherlock tells him, finally looking away from the microscope, but only to look at the scanner screen beside it. It was working on finding a match for what looked like pollen.

"Are they trying to trace it? Trace the call?" John asks.

"Bomber's too smart for that," Sherlock says, looking back into the microscope just as his phone trills again. "Pass me my phone."

"Where is it?" John asks, looking around the room.

"Jacket," Sherlock answers simply.

Artemis presses her lips together as to not giggle as John begrudgingly gets Sherlock's phone from the jacket he is wearing.

"Text from your brother," John tells him as he checks the phone.

"Delete it," Sherlock commands.

"Delete it?" John scoffs.

"Missile plans are out of the country now. Nothing we can do about it," Sherlock explains.

"Sherlock!" John hisses as he gestures his head, in a way that isn't as subtle as he thinks it is, towards Artemis.

Artemis sighs as they both clam up. She covers her ears and starts humming. She reads their lips as they go back and forth about Mycroft and dentists and missile plans. Artemis fights off a smirk when Sherlock comments that "somebody else is being so delightfully interesting" in reference to Jim and his game. Then John tries to get Sherlock to show some compassion, but Sherlock remains as callous as ever. When John looks away from Sherlock in disbelief at his harsh words, he notices Artemis still covering her ears and humming. He motions her that she can stop and she does so.

Artemis mouthes the words "are you okay?" to John who just shakes his head in defeat. Artemis offers him a reassuring smile. John doesn't even try to smile back.

Sherlock gives a pleased "ah!" when the scanner beeps that it found a match. At the same time, Molly Hooper comes through the door, presumably to check in.

"Any luck?" Molly asks as she approaches Sherlock.

Artemis is more concerned with watching as Jim runs into the closing door, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, as he tries to follow Molly. Artemis tastes blood as she bites her tongue to keep from laughing hysterically at what Jim is wearing. Oh, how he must hate wearing something so "pedestrian", as he would put it.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't-" Jim says as he enters the room as if he didn't know there would be other people in it.

"Jim! Hi!" Molly exclaims. Jim makes as if to leave, but Molly gestures him inside. "Come in! Come in!"

Artemis watches as Sherlock looks between Molly and Jim, eyes scanning over their bodies, before seemingly losing interest and turning back to his microscope.

"Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes," Molly introduces.

Jim lets out an "ah" as he goes to stand beside Molly and, by pure coincidence, Artemis who's claimed stool is behind Sherlock. Jim's eyes rove over Sherlock. Artemis wonders how much of that is really acting.

"And, uh…" Molly trails off as she gestures to John and Artemis. "Sorry."

"John Watson. Hi," John introduces himself curtly.

"Artemis," Artemis introduces herself to the man who had her naked and pinned beneath him not twenty four hours ago with a handshake. They make sure not to let it linger any longer than strangers would.

"So, you're Sherlock Holmes? Molly's told me all about you. You on one of your cases?" Jim asks Sherlock as he walks to Sherlock's other side, gaze never leaving Sherlock's back.

Artemis finds it odd to hear Jim speaking in a London accent. She much prefers his Dublin accent. She still doesn't know how he's held onto his Dublin accent for so long considering he only spent the first six years of his life in Ireland.

"Jim works in IT upstairs. That's how we met. Office romance," Molly explains. The supposed couple giggle at what seems to be an inside joke between them.

And yet he came home to Artemis after every date.

Sherlock glances at Jim before turning back to his microscope.

"Gay," Sherlock says quickly.

Molly's smile drops immediately.

"Sorry, what?"

"Nothing, um," Sherlock says, apparently only just realizing that he let his deduction slip. "Hey," he says with a forced polite smile as he looks up at Jim.

"Hey," Jim says back and then totally on purpose knocks a dish over. "Sorry, sorry!" Jim apologizes as he bumbles to pick up the tray and put it back, slipping a card with his number on it under the dish as he puts it back down.

At least this time Artemis is totally justified in her want to giggle and does so quietly with her hand over her mouth to muffle the giggles further.

"Well, I'd better be off," Jim says, not wanting to overstay his welcome anymore than he already has. "I'll see you at The Fox? About sixish?" Jim confirms with Molly.

"Yeah!" Molly exclaims, much more forced now as Jim moves to stand next to her and places his hand on her back.

"Bye," Jim says to Sherlock more than Molly. "It was nice to meet you."

An awkward silence as Sherlock doesn't respond.

"You too," John says for him.

Jim glances at John awkwardly before taking his leave. Artemis' skin itches as he does so. They've had to do things like this a few times before, and it always feels so strange to Artemis to interact with Jim as if he were a stranger. And the worst part is always when they part ways. She doesn't know when it started, but it has become almost a ritual at this point that they kiss goodbye. Be it a long, lingering kiss that buzzes on her lips for some time after the fact or a simple peck to the lips or cheek, it's always there. But not when they have to act as apparent strangers.

"What do you mean gay?" Molly asks Sherlock once the door closes.

"LGBT faux pas there, Sherlock," Artemis admonishes. "You can't just out people like that."

"We're together," Molly defends, sending a glare at Artemis.

"And domestic bliss must suit you, Molly. You've put on three pounds since I last saw you," Sherlock says turning to Molly, and then turning back to his microscope.

Artemis mouthes the word "wow" at how tactless Sherlock is being.

"Two and a half," Molly defends.

"Nuh, three," Sherlock argues, confident in his assessment.

"Sherlock," John warns.

"He's not gay!" Molly denies. "Why do you have to spoil-" Molly huffs. "He's not."

Artemis silently agrees. Bisexual is probably the best term for Jim. He's never actually labeled himself as far as Artemis is aware, but she's seen him check out both men and women before. Though, as far as Artemis is aware of, he's only ever had sex with her. Then again they've never talked about being exclusive, so he could be sleeping around for all she knows. Artemis knows that that should bother her, but it doesn't. Because even if he is, she knows she's the only one he actually cares about.

"With that level of personal grooming?" Sherlock scoffs.

"Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair!" John argues and Artemis wonders why he's bothering.

"You wash your hair, there's a difference," Sherlock counters. "No, no. Tinted eyelashes, clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines, those tired clubber's eyes. Then there's the underwear-"

"His underwear?" Molly questions.

"Visible above the waistline, very visible. Very particular brand," Sherlock answers and then reaches for the dish. "That plus the extremely suggestive fact that he just left his number under this dish here-" Sherlock shows Molly the note "-and I'd say you'd better break it off now and save yourself the pain."

Molly looks between Sherlock and the two others in the room before turning on her heel and running out of the room.

"You have no tact whatsoever, do you?" Artemis asks Sherlock once the door closes behind Molly.

"Just saving her time. Isn't that kinder?" Sherlock asks as he looks between Artemis and John.

"Kinder? No, no, Sherlock. That wasn't kind," John informs him.

"You could've been a lot gentler about it," Artemis adds.

Sherlock sighs, obviously fed up with this distraction as he puts down Jim's note. He reaches over towards the trainers and scoots one closer to John.

"Go on, then," Sherlock says. John hums in confusion. "You know what I do. Off you go," Sherlock encourages.

John scoffs as he looks between Sherlock, the shoes, and Artemis.

"No," John says with a shake of his head.

"Go on," Sherlock continues to prod.

"I'm not going to stand here so you can humiliate me while I try and disseminate-" John begins to argue.

"An outside eye, a second opinion. It's very useful to me," Sherlock interrupts.

"Yeah right," John mumbles.

"Really," Sherlock insists.

John glances once more between Sherlock and the shoes. His eyes drift back towards Artemis who gestures him on. John sighs and begins to stumble through his deduction with some poking and prodding from Sherlock. He correctly concludes that they belonged to a kid, but incorrectly assumes that they're only retro in design and not age.

"How did I do?" John asks when he's finished.

"Well, John. Really well," Sherlock compliments. "I mean you missed almost everything of importance, but, um, you know-"

John cuts off Sherlock by placing a shoe in his hands.

Despite having seen Jim make deductions based on very little before, Artemis still finds herself impressed by Sherlock. He quickly deduces Carl's love for those stupid shoes, his eczema, the age of the shoes, and that the shoes had been in both Sussex and London.

"So," Sherlock starts after deducing that something bad must have happened to the kid who owned the shoes. "A child with big feet gets-" Sherlock stops suddenly. "Oh."

"What?" John asks.

"Carl Powers," Sherlock whispers.

Artemis' heart leaps to her throat. So he remembered. It wasn't just one of many mysteries he tried to solve as a child.

"What? Really?" Artemis says with astonishment in her voice.

The pair turn to look at her. John looking totally lost and Sherlock looking mildly confused.

"Why do I feel like I'm the only one who doesn't know who this kid is?" John questions, looking between Artemis and Sherlock.

"Yes, why does John feel that way?" Sherlock asks as his eyes narrow in on Artemis.

"I, um, I went to school with Carl," Artemis explains. "Well, until he, um… until he died."

"Died?" John asks.

"Yeah, he - he drowned," Artemis explains, stumbling on her words as though in shock at hearing the name again. She speaks as if in a trance. "He had some sort of fit in the pool and, well, by the time they got to him he was already gone. Just one of those freak accidents, you know?" Artemis seems to shake herself out of it and turns to Sherlock. "How do you know a name like that off the top of your head?" Her voice is full of nothing but genuine curiosity.

"His case is where I began," Sherlock all but whispers.

And it was where Jim began too. They weren't just made for each other. They had created each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Deception, hostages and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

Artemis flips through pages and pages of news reports, police reports, and forensics reports all having to do with the Carl Powers case. She checks her watch. Sherlock has just over three hours left. John had left a long while ago, sent by Sherlock to appease Mycroft, leaving Artemis alone with Sherlock.

Artemis sighs as she closes the witness statement she's been reading. She looks over at Sherlock who is staring at the deconstructed trainers he has pinned up on a string in the corner. Artemis is pretty sure he solved the case a while ago when he looked at samples from the inside of the shoes. But he hasn't told her yet because he needs to confirm whether or not she already knows. Artemis decides that now is as good of time as any to give Sherlock the opening to do so.

"So," Artemis begins, causing Sherlock to glance at her. "Let's say that Carl was murdered-"

"And why are you saying that?" Sherlock asks her, eyes narrowing.

"Because you said it first," Artemis says, inflecting the end of her statement to show confusion. While technically he had never said murder, he had mentioned foul play.

"Right. Yes, sorry. Go on," Sherlock apologizes and gestures for her to continue.

"Right," Artemis says, dragging out the word in her apparent confusion at what just happened. She turns back to flip through the witness reports again. "So let's say that Carl was murdered. All the witnesses say that he just sort of had a fit. Seized up. So, again assuming it was murder, that would mean he was poisoned, right? But all the witnesses say that no one was near him. So it'd have to be some type of poison that takes time to take effect. Or, like, a slow release capsule?" Artemis' head tilts. "Are those a real thing or did I just read about them in a spy book?" She looks back up at Sherlock who is studying her with a forced blank expression.

"Keep going," Sherlock tells her, his voice also carefully blank.

"Right, so poison. But the autopsy report came back clean," Artemis continues. "So we're looking for a poison that takes time to take effect and is virtually undetectable," Artemis finishes.

"And what poisons fit that description?" Sherlock asks her, voice tight.

"Why are you asking me? You're the scientist," Artemis tells him, voice very confused.

"Yes, and I'm also the consulting detective," Sherlock tells her. Artemis gives him a puzzled look. "A bit odd, isn't it, Artemis? How the first case you accompany John and myself on, you just so happen to have a history with."

Artemis' brows pinch in confusion before realization lights in her eyes and her jaw drops open just enough to part her lips. All acting, of course. She had known that Sherlock would suspect her of the murder the minute she admitted to going to school with Carl.

"That could just be a coincidence, Sherlock," Artemis tells him slowly and seriously.

"Mycroft doesn't believe in coincidences," Sherlock informs her.

"And what about you?" Artemis asks, honestly curious.

Sherlock studies her a moment as if waiting for her to say something else despite it being his turn to speak.

"I believe they don't happen as often as people think," Sherlock finally says.

They watch each other for a long moment.

"Clostridium botulinum," Sherlock says abruptly.

"What?" Artemis blinks up at him in genuine confusion. Jim had never actually told her what poison he used.

"The poison. It's virtually untraceable and takes time to take effect. It's also a contact poison, so it could be put into his eczema medication on the day he died," Sherlock explains.

"Why are you telling me something you think I already know?" Artemis questions suspiciously, as if she thinks this is a way to further entrap her as the culprit.

"Because you don't know it. You aren't the killer," Sherlock says matter-of-factly.

"But you just-"

"Witness reports," Sherlock cuts her off. "Whenever you describe the event, you cite what witnesses said happened. You never give a firsthand account. You weren't there, were you?"

"No. No, I wasn't," Artemis tells him honestly. She really hadn't been there. And that must have been what Jim was counting on when he decided that Artemis would use her true identity. It was another test. If Sherlock was as good as he claimed to be, then he surely wouldn't be tricked by a red herring.

"But if I were the killer, then I would have been sure not to admit that I was there," Artemis points out, because his logic was honestly a bit faulty.

"Correct. Following that logic, the killer would have also claimed their alibi when accused of murder. Yet you were more concerned about whether or not I believed in coincidences," Sherlock tells her as he gets out his laptop and begins to boot it up.

Well, she couldn't exactly argue with that, but the evidence was still circumstantial at best.

"I feel like you could have done without the accusing me of murder part. I mean you could have just asked for my alibi," Artemis says.

"The murderer would have had one ready," Sherlock tells her flippantly as he types in his password to get into his laptop.

"You're Sherlock Holmes," Artemis points out. "You could spot a fake alibi a mile away."

Sherlock's lips twitch up for a fraction of a second before falling back to neutral. Sherlock sighs as he opens up an internet window and navigates to his website.

"I didn't ask you for an alibi because you don't have one," Sherlock tells her. "Not one that you could prove anyway."

It takes her a second, but Artemis gets it eventually.

"Because I was either home alone or with my father."

"And a dead man can't prove an alibi," Sherlock finishes for her.

"You weren't accusing me of murder. You were proving my innocence the only way you could," Artemis realizes.

"I was doing both," Sherlock assures her too quickly, giving away his embarrassment at being called out on his kindness.

Artemis chuckles as she gets up to walk over to where Sherlock is standing.

"Thank you, Sherlock," Artemis says before getting on her tip-toes and kissing Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock freezes.

The door suddenly opens and shuts. Artemis takes a quick step back from Sherlock as John makes his way through the lounge and into the kitchen where they were set up.

"Ah, John, perfect timing. I've just solved the case," Sherlock says, apparently snapped out of his frozen state.

Phase Three: Befriend Sherlock Holmes. Complete.

\---

Artemis gets home that night, after they get the call that the hostage is safe, to find Jim working on his laptop in the bed. Artemis doesn't speak as she simply gets ready for bed. Jim pouts at her as she makes it a point to put on her pajamas.

"I'm tired," she tells him as she climbs into the spot next to him, crawling under the covers.

Jim sighs in acceptance as he finishes up whatever he was working on. He closes the laptop, puts it on the side table, and flicks off the lamp before getting comfortable himself. He pulls Artemis to him and places a kiss on her head.

"Tell me what happened at least?" Jim mumbles into her hair.

Artemis does. All the important bits, anyway.

\---

Artemis wakes up when her phone pings with a text alert. She grabs it and quickly unlocks the phone to check it. It's from the contact she added to her phone but has never used. The one from Sherlock's website.

'Scotland Yard. Now. Ask to see Lestrade. -SH'

Artemis tosses the covers off of her and flies out of bed. She tugs on jeans and a sweater, not bothering with work clothes today. She hurries into the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair quickly. She doesn't even bother with makeup. It's only once she exits the bathroom that she realizes that she had woken up in an empty bed. She throws everything she needs into a small purse and hurries out of the room.

Jim is at the breakfast bar with his laptop out. He looks up at her, confused.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"That's up to you," she tells him as she walks over. "I could sit down and start skimming through emails as planned. Or-" she shows him the text "-I could get a cab to Scotland Yard."

Jim takes her phone and looks over the text consideringly.

"Well, I suppose when opportunity knocks…" Jim trails off as he hands her the phone back. They certainly hadn't planned on Artemis being invited to continue to follow the case.

Artemis grins and takes her phone back from Jim. She pecks his cheek before heading for the door.

"Don't wait up for me!" She calls over her shoulder, already planning on how she would overstay her welcome and stay on the case.

\---

"...who gets bored," Sherlock was saying as Artemis entered the DI's office.

"Artemis? What are you doing here?" John asks, standing up.

"I invited her," Sherlock says flippantly, obviously still mostly lost in his head.

"You can't just invite civilians in on a case-" Lestrade tries to argue.

"Why not? You do it all the time," Sherlock argues right back.

Lestrade's mouth snaps shut.

"I, uh, don't believe we've properly met," Artemis says, holding her hand out to Lestrade. "Artemis Doyle."

"Greg Lestrade," he introduces, shaking her proffered hand with a slightly too tight grip. She gets it, police tend to not like journalists. She wonders how hard he'd squeeze if he knew her real occupation.

The pink phone in Sherlock's hand goes off. Sherlock unlocks the phone and an electronic voice informs him that he has one new message. The phone beeps four times as Sherlock turns and walks towards them.

"Four pips," John says redundantly.

"First test passed, it would seem. Here's the second," Sherlock says as he shows the phone to Lestrade. Artemis stretches to see the picture despite knowing what it would be of. "It's abandoned, wouldn't you say?"

"I'll see if it's been reported," Lestrade mumbles as he takes the pink phone and picks up his desk phone.

The door opens and Sgt. Sally Donovan leans into the room holding a mobile phone.

"Freak. It's for you," Donovan says.

Sherlock walks over and takes the phone, walking out of the room as he answers it. John follows him, but Artemis watches from inside the office as Sherlock speaks to Jim through a voice that isn't his own.

"Okay. Great," Lestrade says into the desk phone before he hangs it up and shouts, "We've found it!" He heads out of his office with Artemis scurrying after him, notepad in hand.

\---

Artemis trails behind with John and Donovan while Lestrade tells Sherlock the particulars of the case.

"So who are you, then?" Donovan asks Artemis when they stop short of the car.

"Oh, um, Artemis Doyle," Artemis introduces, tucking her pen into her notepad so she can extend a hand in greeting.

"Sergeant Sally Donovan," she introduces, accepting the handshake. "So the freak's got a journalist after him too now?"

Artemis bites her tongue as Donovan uses that word again. Artemis fucking hates that word.

"After him?" Artemis questions.

"You should run while you still can," Donovan warns, ignoring Artemis' question. She then walks over towards Lestrade and Sherlock before Artemis can retort.

"Charming, isn't she?" Artemis says dryly.

John laughs before he remembers he's at a crime scene and snaps his mouth shut.

Sherlock walks around the car towards a woman who has just finished talking to a policewoman. John and Artemis follow. Artemis presses her lips together to keep from giggling at Sherlock's overdramatic acting as he pretends to be an old friend of the supposed victim. Mrs. Monkford isn't buying it at all, but that doesn't seem to matter as she tells him about Mr. Monkford's depression and that he "forgot" to renew the tax on his car. Sherlock is quick to drop the persona, apparently hearing all he needed to. He turns on his heel and walks away. Artemis works double time to chase after him with his stupidly long legs. He's not actually all that tall, but Artemis is rather on the shorter side.

"Why did you lie to her?" John asks as they duck under the blue tape.

"People don't like telling you things, but they love to contradict you. Past tense, did you notice?" Sherlock explains as he takes off his gloves to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Sorry, what?" John questions.

"I referred to her husband in the past tense. She joined in. Bit premature, they've only just found the car," Sherlock continues as he tucks his gloves in his pocket.

"You think she murdered her husband?" John asks.

"Definitely not. That's not a mistake a murderer would make," Sherlock answers.

"But she's accepted the fact that he's gone," Artemis concludes.

"Exactly." Sherlock pulls out a card from his pocket. "Just found this in the glove compartment."

"Janus Cars," John reads after taking the card.

So off they went to Janus Cars.

\---

Artemis mindlessly takes notes about the case she observes Sherlock. She watches as he peeks beneath Mr. Ewert's collar while he's distracted. She watches as he takes notice of Mr. Ewert scratching his shoulder. She watches as he peeks into Mr. Ewert's wallet after asking for change for the cigarette machine. Artemis takes mental note of Sherlock's smoking habit.

John and Artemis follow after Sherlock as he abruptly leaves.

"I've got change if you still want to-" John starts but Sherlock cuts him off.

"Nicotine patches, remember?" Sherlock reminds, patting his arm. "I'm doing well."

Artemis mentally revises her note that he's trying to quit using nicotine patches.

"So what was that all about?" John questions.

"I needed to look inside his wallet," Sherlock responds.

"Why?" Artemis asks, despite being able to guess the answer.

"Mr. Ewert's a liar."

\---

Artemis and John sit across from each other at a table in a fish and chips shop. When Sherlock announced his intent to go to St. Bart's to run tests on the blood, John decided to go grab some food and dragged Artemis along when she admitted that she had yet to eat today.

"So, what do you think Sherlock meant when he said that Mr. Ewert was a liar?" Artemis asks as she dips a chip in ketchup.

John looks at her for a moment before he chuckles and shakes his head.

"What?" Artemis asks.

"You're actually enjoying this, aren't you?" John asks in disbelief.

"I mean, yeah," Artemis admits. "Don't get me wrong, the circumstances aren't great," Artemis quickly clarifies. "But solving mysteries? What's not fun about that?"

"I'm never going to have a normal friend," John mutters to himself.

"Aw, who wants normal, anyway? Normal's boring," Artemis laughs as she pops a chip into her mouth.

John smiles fondly as he shakes his head. Then his phone beeps and he quickly checks it.

"It's Sherlock. He wants us to meet him at Scotland Yard," John says.

"What? He's solved it already?" Artemis questions in false disbelief.

"Apparently," John shrugs.

\---

They meet Sherlock and Lestrade in the parking garage of Scotland Yard. They apparently have an area sectioned off for vehicles that are considered evidence.

Sherlock takes them through his gathered evidence and the deductions he made based around them. Of course the consulting detective is spot on. Life insurance fraud. It was one of the more boring enterprises they had, according to Jim, so he was fine to let Sherlock discover it.

"Now go and arrest them, Inspector. That's what you do best. We need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solved," Sherlock says, speaking quickly and with an edge of excitement in his voice.

Artemis follows after Sherlock and John as they head for the exit.

"I am on fire!" Sherlock exclaims.

Artemis lets a pleased smile cross her face at Sherlock's enjoyment of Jim's game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to DidIStepOnYourMoment who solved the mystery of Artemis' name's inspiration last chapter.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Deception, hostages, implied sexual content, murder, drinking (not alcoholism), kleptomania, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

Artemis wakes up on the sofa of 221B the next morning. She had very purposefully let herself fall asleep while they waited for the call to let them know the hostage was safe. There is a blanket thrown over her that wasn't there when she fell asleep. John is sitting on the coffee table and retracting his arm from where he had been tapping her shoulder to wake her up.

"Morning," he greets.

"Is the hostage okay?" Artemis asks as she sits up.

"He's fine. Safe," John reassures.

"Good. Sorry I fell asleep-" Artemis starts, but John waves off the apology.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I've slept on your sofa a few times now. Probably about time I return the favor."

Artemis checks her phone. She has several new emails, but none of them need her immediate attention.

"Hungry?" John asks her.

"Starving," Artemis admits.

\---

Artemis sits beside John at the café they're having breakfast at. Well, John and Artemis are having breakfast. Apparently Sherlock doesn't eat while working. Something about digestion slowing him down. Artemis takes mental note of this as she chews a bite of toast.

"Has it occurred to you-" John starts after a bit of silence.

"Probably," Sherlock says, cutting him off.

"No, has it occurred to you that the bomber's playing a game with you?" John asks, ignoring the interruption. "The envelope, breaking into the other flat, the dead kid's shoes. It's all meant for you."

"Yes, I know," Sherlock says, a slight smile on his face that he can't seem to contain. John is looking down at his food and misses it, but Artemis doesn't.

"Is it him then? Moriarty?" John asks.

"Perhaps," Sherlock says.

"Who's Moriarty?" Artemis asks as she looks between the two.

The pink phone beeps and Artemis can't help but to think that Jim has the absolute worst timing. Sherlock unlocks the phone and a picture of Connie Prince comes up as the phone lets out three pips.

"That could be anybody," Sherlock says as he turns the phone to face them.

"Well it could be, yeah. Lucky for you, I've been more than a little bit unemployed," John says as he shifts in his seat, preparing to get up.

"How do you mean?" Sherlock asks, genuinely confused by that statement.

"Lucky for you, Mrs. Hudson and I watch far too much telly," John says. He gets up and slips past Artemis to head to the counter. He takes the remote and flips through a few channels until Connie Prince appears on the screen.

The pink phone rings as she says something about silk purses. Sherlock answers it, holding it to his ear.

"Hello," Sherlock greets. A long pause as Jim says whatever he says and the hostage relays it. In that time, John retakes his seat, looking worried. "Why are you doing this?" Another long pause and then Sherlock puts the phone down as the call has presumably ended.

As the news anchor goes on to report about Connie Prince's sudden death, Artemis' phone lets out a beep that is distinctively different from a normal text notification's beep.

'Bored. Come back when convenient. -JM'

Well, now seems convenient enough.

"Damn," Artemis says with a put upon sigh as they walk out of the café. "I have to check in with work-"

"Work? What work? You're a freelance journalist. This is your work," Sherlock says, confused.

"Do you even listen when I speak?" Artemis asks with amusement. "I told you last week that Daily Mail picked me up part-time."

Sherlock just stares blankly at her, obviously not remembering the conversation.

"I took two days off already. I'm behind on my deadlines and can't really afford to spend the next however many days following one story that I might not even get to publish," Artemis explains. "Besides, I probably shouldn't steal John's story anyway."

She sees Sherlock's expression out of the corner of her eye as she waves down a cab. He looks rather offended by her choosing such an ordinary thing over the adventure he's offered her. The cab pulls up and she opens the door.

"Let me know when you catch the bad guy, okay?" She asks, her gaze mostly on Sherlock who nods. She smiles and climbs into the cab, rattling off the address she's growing far too used to.

\---

Jim must have heard her unlocking the door as he's there to greet her as she enters the flat. He pulls her into a hungry kiss that she lets happen for only a second or two before pulling away and brushing past him.

"What's this really about?" Artemis asks as she heads for the bedroom, stripping off her clothes as she goes and leaving them in a trail behind her. Jim follows her. "Surely you could entertain yourself for a few hours." Artemis climbs into the shower and turns on the spray, wincing at the cold water, but it quickly warms up.

"First I get cockblocked by John Watson, then you're too tired to do anything the next night, and then you don't even make it home last night," Jim explains through the curtain. Artemis shivers at a rush of cool air behind her as the curtain is pulled open. She giggles as Jim's arms wrap around her, caressing her wet skin. "I might just be feeling a bit pent up, darling."

Artemis rolls her eyes. He makes it sound as if they are sex addicts. They've had far longer dry spells than three days. Hell, three days isn't even a dry spell, it's barely even a break. But it's something about moments like these. When a big plan is unfolding, all the pieces falling into place, Jim's libido skyrockets. Artemis thinks it's a power thing. He feels powerful in these moments and therefore sexy. If she's being honest, she finds that her own libido rises in these moments as well, so she doesn't have much to complain about.

Jim nibbles at her earlobe and Artemis chuckles before turning in his arms and connecting their lips to continue what Jim started by the door.

\---

Artemis spends the rest of the day, after her very long shower, catching up with her real job. She checks to make sure everything is running smoothly and starts to sort out emails from most to least urgent. Jim already has a file where he sorted them from most to least interesting, but Artemis doesn't find that organization choice particularly helpful.

Sherlock has three hours left to go when Jim gets bored enough to call again. Really, Artemis is rather confused that this one is taking him so long. It's no more difficult than the others as far as she can tell.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jim says from his spot set up at the breakfast bar. The blind old woman who was the hostage this time repeats his words slowly. "Joining the dots." The woman repeats, her voice shaking and breath hitching. "Three hours. Boom. Boom." The woman repeats and gasps in terror before Jim lets the line go dead.

Jim sighs in boredom as he closes his laptop.

"Hey, Artemis-" Jim begins with a mischievous lilt to his voice.

"I'm working," Artemis says, cutting him off before he can suggest a round two. "You should try it sometime. Especially considering what we're giving up for this little game of yours." Thirty million pounds was nothing to scoff at, after all.

"Fine," Jim sighs, drawing out the word as he reopens his laptop. "Bloody tyrant," he mumbles as he types in his laptop password.

"Maybe if you're lucky, I'll use my whip for something fun tonight," Artemis says around an amused grin.

Jim messes up his password twice before his fingers seem to cooperate with him again.

\---

There is less than an hour left when Sherlock's website finally updates.

"Go ahead, beg for help and tell him where you are," Jim tells the old woman before connecting her to Sherlock.

"Hello," Sherlock greets.

"Help me!" The woman begs in anguish.

"Tell us where you are. Address," Sherlock demands.

"He was so… his voice, he…" the woman begins, just as Jim had hoped she would. Jim wants to show Sherlock just how serious he's taking this game. Doesn't want Sherlock to doubt his commitment for a second. Why else choose a blind hostage when there are so many sighted people to choose from?

"No, no, no, no. Tell me nothing about him. Nothing," Sherlock says, panicking.

"He sounded so… soft," the woman finishes.

Sebastian, hearing this from where he was put on speaker phone, takes the shot.

Artemis knows she should feel bad, guilty even, over what just happened, but she doesn't. Like always, she feels that old sense of apathy wash over her. Simple, silly emotions like amusement or annoyance are easy for Artemis, but the more complicated, serious emotions like guilt or fear still allude Artemis to this day.

"Soft?!" Jim scoffs in disbelief that that was how she had chosen to describe his voice.

Artemis giggles.

\---

They know that this case, "The Lost Vermeer" case, is going to take longer than the others they gave Sherlock. Jim opts to give Sebastian a bit of a break. They haven't even taken a hostage yet.

Artemis is spending the day very similarly to the day before. Working. But now with the emails all sorted, it was time to get to work responding to them. Luckily Jim is available for the day, so the two work together to respond. Jim plans out the crime and Artemis works with the network to get it underway. It's a good system they have worked out. Still, one can only work for so long.

"Do you need Sebastian tonight?" Artemis asks after she finishes working out a way to fund a new branch of a weapon smuggling operation.

"It looks like I'll be needing him in the morning," Jim tells her. They had gotten word from the Golem about his escape not too long ago. The gallery isn't open this late, so Sherlock will have to wait until morning to continue his investigation. In the meantime, Jim will work to get a hostage sorted, but until then…

"So what I'm hearing is that you don't need him tonight," Artemis clarifies.

Jim sighs.

"Fine, go. Just make sure he knows that I need him sober and in working order in the morning," Jim tells her.

Artemis grins as she closes her laptop and heads to the bedroom to get ready. She texts Sebastian before quickly getting ready for a night out at the pubs.

"I'll be back late," Artemis tells Jim as she kisses his cheek on her way to the door.

"Just remember that you're on-call tomorrow," Jim calls after her as a reminder.

Artemis makes an incoherent noise halfway between acknowledgement and dismissal as she grabs her keys and heads out the door.

\---

A man in ratty jeans, a bulky jacket, and a baseball cap low over his face pulls out the stool next to Artemis.

"This seat seat taken?" He asks in a low gruff voice that Artemis knows isn't quite his own.

"Only by you, my lord," Artemis says with a giggle.

"I see you've already hit the booze then," Sebastian laughs as he sits down and orders a pint quickly and with his head mostly down. If it wasn't for the bit of grey in his hair, Artemis is sure the bartender would think he was a kid trying to pull a fast one.

The thing about getting drinks with Sebastian was that while she knew he was M the sniper and Seb her good friend, everyone else still saw Lord Moran. And Lord Moran had a public image to keep intact, so it was either in disguise or drinking at home.

"You doing okay?" Artemis asks as she always does when Sebastian has to pull the trigger on someone who could be considered an innocent. Artemis may feel numb to it, but she knew that other people feel guilt over this sort of thing and that guilt was a dangerous emotion.

Like always, Sebastian just shrugs as he accepts the beer from the bartender.

"It'd be better if I could get absolutely plastered tonight, but I'm apparently needed in the morning," Sebastian tells her, sounding annoyed.

"Good, then you get to be the responsible adult tonight," Artemis giggles and motions the bartender for another and to make it double.

"Just because I'm mostly sober doesn't make me responsible, Artemis," Sebastian laughs.

"So long as you're responsible enough to take me home at the end of the night," Artemis tells him as the bartender puts two shots in front of her and a chaser. Artemis scoots a shot to Sebastian who rolls his eyes but picks it up. They clink glasses and throw back the shots.

That's about as far into the night as Artemis will coherently remember the next morning.

\---

The next morning, Artemis wakes up with a pounding headache and her whole left side hurting. She must have taken a hard fall at some point last night, but fuck if she remembers when or where.

After downing the water and pills that Jim must have left on her side table, Artemis ventures out of the room in search of coffee. She's normally a tea drinker, but hangovers require coffee.

She enters the kitchen to see Jim setting up for a phone call to Sherlock.

"Perfect timing, darling!" Jim exclaims, purposefully being very loud. Artemis glares daggers at him as she grabs the coffee grounds from the pantry.

"How's the head, Artie?" Sebastian laughs unsympathetically out of Jim's speaker phone.

"You both suck," Artemis informs them as she puts grounds into the filter, closes it up and pushes the brew button.

"Alright, showtime," Jim says, quieting Sebastian's chuckles as he makes the call.

"The painting is a fake," Sherlock says before Jim has the hostage say anything at all.

Jim doesn't type anything, so the hostage's breathing is all that is heard on their end of the line.

"It's a fake. That's why Woodbridge and Cairns were killed," Sherlock continues after a moment of silence from the hostage.

Again, no response as Jim shakes his head in what appears to be disappointment. They know this one was going to be the more challenging one for him with his "deletion" of space facts, but it would be disappointing if he can't figure it out completely.

"Oh, come on, proving it's just the detail. The painting is a fake. I've solved it, I've figured it out," Sherlock proclaims as Jim continues to shake his head. "It's a fake. That's the answer. That's why they were killed."

"That's not how you play the game, Sherlock," Jim all but sing-songs.

Artemis pours her coffee in the long pause before Sherlock's next words. She brings the coffee, black with no sugar because she actually likes the taste of coffee, over as she takes the seat beside Jim.

"Okay, I'll prove it," Sherlock says calmly. "Give me time. Will you give me time?" Sherlock asks not so calmly.

Jim finally begins to type into the pager.

"Ten," the little boy that is their hostage says.

"It's a kid," Lestrade's voice just barely comes over the phone as if he's far away from the speaker. "Oh, God, it's a kid."

"What did he say?" John asks.

"Ten," Sherlock answers quietly just as the hostage speaks again.

"Nine."

"It's a countdown. He's giving me time," Sherlock finishes his answer.

"Jesus!" Lestrade swears.

"The painting is a fake, but how can I prove it? How? How?" Sherlock rambles.

"Eight."

"This kid will die. Tell me why the painting is fake. Tell me!" Sherlock demands, probably of the gallery owner.

"Cheating are we?" Jim questions as he types the next number for the hostage.

"Seven."

"No, shut up. Don't say anything. It only works if I figure it out," Sherlock says quickly.

"Six."

John mumbles something, but Artemis can't quite make out what.

"Woodbridge knew, but how?" Sherlock begins his rambling aloud again.

"Five."

"It's speeding up," Lestrade realizes, panicking.

"Oh!" Sherlock exclaims like he's had an epiphany.

"Four."

"In the planetarium! You heard it too," Sherlock says excitedly. "Oh, that is brilliant! That is gorgeous!"

A grin stretches across Jim's face as he types.

"Three."

"What's brilliant? What is?" John demands.

"This is beautiful! I love this!" Sherlock continues.

Artemis smiles into her coffee mug.

"Two."

"Sherlock!" Lestrade yells furiously.

"The Van Buren Supernova!" Sherlock yells into the phone.

"Cutting it a bit close there, Sherlock," Jim chuckles as he types out the message to tell the hostage to ask for help.

"Please. Is somebody there? Somebody help me!" The hostage begs.

"There you go. Go find where he is and pick him up," Sherlock says and must hand the phone to Lestrade.

"Well, that was fun," Jim says as a conversation between the hostage and Lestrade plays as background noise. "I have some snipers to meet with. Put this away for me when they're finished," Jim commands more than asks, but Artemis hums a positive anyway. Jim kisses her lips quickly and heads out, only taking his phone with him.

Artemis waits until she hears people coming in to save the hostage before she ends the call and packs up the set up. Not nearly ready for work yet, Artemis decides to take the day off and just relax until Jim will no doubt need her tonight.

She heads into the lounge and pauses upon seeing the cat mummy on the coffee table. Shit, she doesn't even remember going to the museum last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Deception, nonconsensual drug use (drugging), hostages, implied sexual content, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

That night, Artemis gets a text from Jim.

'Time for the final phase. -JM'

Artemis sighs as she turns off her movie and quickly gets prepared for what she is about to do before sending John a text to ask him how things are going. He is quick in his response as he asks if he can come over. Artemis is all too happy to comply.

About twenty minutes later the bell to her flat rings and Artemis buzzes John in.

"Hey, thanks for letting me come over. You wouldn't believe-" John begins as he hugs Artemis in greeting, but cuts himself off as he feels a stab in his neck as Artemis injects drugs into his system. John stumbles and Artemis pulls him the rest of the way into the flat, shutting the door behind him. John falls to the floor and blinks up at Artemis. "Artemis, what?" John slurs as his eyes blink rapidly in an attempt to stay conscious. "What have you done?"

"Sorry, John. It's nothing personal, really. Just business," Artemis says, actually feeling a little bad about drugging the man she had come to consider as almost a real friend at this point. But only a little.

John passes out and Artemis grabs the keys to the little-used car in the flat building's garage. She sighs as she looks over John and realizes that she's going to have to drag him through the building to get him into the car. Good thing it's so late at night. The things she does for Jim Moriarty…

\---

Artemis waits in the little hallway with Jim until midnight when Sherlock arrives.

"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present," Sherlock says, voice coming through the cracked door. "Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles, making me dance, all to distract me from this!"

"Okay, Johnny-boy. Go ahead and head out there," Jim says quietly into the microphone that transmits to John's headset. They hear the door creak open and the footsteps as John does as he's told.

"Evening," Jim says after a moment and John repeats. "This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?" Jim says and John repeats.

"John? What the hell…?" Sherlock questions.

"Bet you never saw this coming," Jim says and John repeats. "Okay, Johnny-boy," Jim says again to indicate that he's telling John to do something and not to simply repeat his word. "Open up that jacket and let Sherlock see what you have on." Jim pauses briefly before he continues.

"What… would you like me… to make him say… next?" John slowly repeats Jim's words. "Gottle o' geer… Gottle o' geer… Gottle o' geer…"

Artemis covers her mouth to suppress her giggles.

"Stop it," Sherlock demands.

"Nice touch this. The pool where little Carl died. I stopped him. I can stop John Watson too. Stop his heart," Jim says, pausing after each sentence to let John repeat it.

"Who are you?" Sherlock yells.

Artemis opens the door further with a creak.

"I gave you my number," Jim calls out in his Jim-from-IT voice. "I thought you might call."

Jim steps through the door and into view. Artemis follows him and lets the door close behind her. Sherlock's eyes, that had been locked on Jim, flick to Artemis and she sees the brief flicker of betrayal behind his eyes before they quickly turn back to Jim.

"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket?" Jim asks as he walks parallel to the pool a bit before stopping. "Or are you just pleased to see me?"

"Both," Sherlock says, drawing the gun and pointing it at Jim who doesn't even flinch.

"Jim Moriarty," Jim introduces. "Hi!" He sing-songs.

"Jim? Jim from the hospital?" Jim asks as if he were someone else asking these questions. He begins walking again and this time Artemis follows him. "Oh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point," Jim says.

Sherlock glances at John as the red dot of a sniper's sight dances across John's skin.

"Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty," Jim says once they reach the corner of the pool.

Artemis snorts as she takes her spot leaning against the back wall. Sherlock's eyes, which have been avoiding her, seem to flick to her involuntarily at the noise.

"Ah, yes. Coincidences are so very rare, aren't they Sherlock?" Jim asks rhetorically with a mischievous lilt to his voice.

Sherlock's eyes flick back to Jim as he begins to walk towards the pair.

"I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see-" Jim pauses as though something has just occurred to him "-like you."

"'Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister?'" Sherlock says, mock-quoting the BBC's "Jim'll Fix It" from back in the day.

Jim grins as he begins walking forwards again.

"'Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?'" Sherlock continues.

"Just so," Jim says as he stops again.

"Consulting criminal," Sherlock realizes. "Brilliant."

"Isn't it?" Jim smiles proudly. "No one ever gets to me." Jim's smile drops. "And no one ever will."

"I did," Sherlock points out, cocking the gun.

"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way," Jim tells Sherlock.

"Thank you," Sherlock deadpans.

"Didn't mean it as a compliment," Jim denies.

"Yes you did," Sherlock continues with his carefully neutral voice.

"Yeah, okay, I did," Jim admits with a shrug. "But the flirting's over, Sherlock, Daddy's had enough now!" Jim sing-songs.

Jim begins to walk ever closer to the pair.

"I've shown you what I can do. I cut loose all those people, all those problems, even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play." Jim stops walking as his voice becomes dead serious. "So take this as a friendly warning. My dear. Back off."

Jim begins to walk again, voice once again amused.

"Although, I have loved this. This little game of ours." Jim's voice switches to his London accent. "Playing Jim from IT." And back to normal again. "Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"

"People have died," Sherlock says.

"That's what people-" Jim begins, voice still amused "-DO!" And like flicking a switch, he sounds furious as he stops walking and yells at Sherlock.

Artemis rolls her eyes at his dramatics.

"I will stop you," Sherlock says.

"No you won't," Jim answers matter-of-factly.

"You alright?" Sherlock asks John with concern.

John stays quiet.

"You can talk, Johnny-boy. Go ahead," Jim tells John from where he is now standing right behind him.

But John only nods, not speaking at all.

"Take it," Sherlock tells Jim as he holds out a memory stick.

"Huh? Oh! That! The missile plans," Jim says as he walks forwards, past John, to take the memory stick from Sherlock. He kisses the stick and looks down at it contemplatively for a second. "Boring!" Jim sing-songs. "I could have got them anywhere."

Artemis makes an aborted noise in her throat as he tosses the memory stick into the pool. Yes, they could have gotten them if they wanted to, but he had them in his hands and threw them away for dramatic effect. Sometimes it's impossible not to want to strangle Jim.

Suddenly, John hurries forward and wraps his arms around Jim, one around his neck and the other around his arm. Artemis' fingers twitch towards the gun behind her back. Jim may not like to get his hands dirty, but Artemis doesn't have an issue with doing so if she feels the need to. But she knows that they have plenty of guns in play already, so she leaves it be.

"Sherlock, run!" John pleads as he holds Jim tightly to him.

Sherlock doesn't run.

"Oh ho ho!" Jim laughs. "Good! Very good!"

"If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr. Moriarty, then we both go up," John hisses.

"Isn't he sweet? I can see why you like having him around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets. They're so touchingly loyal," Jim mocks, struggling half-heartedly against John's hold. "A little help anytime now, darling," Jim calls, pitching his voice back towards Artemis.

Sherlock's eyes flick towards Artemis as she lifts a walkie talkie to her lips.

"Alpha-one," Artemis says, indicating Sebastian. "Switch target to Holmes."

"You've rather shown your hand there, Dr. Watson," Jim mocks. A red dot appears on Sherlock's forehead. "Gotcha!" Jim sing-songs.

John lets go of Jim and steps back, hands held up in surrender.

Jim straightens his suit and gestures down at it indignantly.

"Westwood."

Artemis rolls her eyes and suppresses the urge to snort at Jim's vanity.

"Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock? To you?" Jim asks as if the whole incident with John never happened.

"Oh, let me guess, I get killed," Sherlock says, sounding bored and unimpressed.

"Kill you?" Jim asks as though astonished by the response. "No, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm going to kill you anyway, someday. I don't want to rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special," Jim says nonchalantly. "No, no, no, no, no. If you don't stop prying-" Jim's voice becomes serious once more "-I will burn you. I will burn the heart out of you."

"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one," Sherlock tells him, voice carefully void of emotion.

"But we both know that's not quite true," Jim informs him.

There is a tense pause.

"Well, I'd better be off," Jim says as if he can't feel the tension in the room. "Well, so nice to have had a proper chat."

Artemis is about to kick off the wall to leave, but pauses when Sherlock speaks.

"What if I was to shoot you now? Right now?" Sherlock asks, raising the pistol slightly.

"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face," Jim says and makes a mock-surprised expression. "Because I'd be surprised, Sherlock. Really I would. And just a teensy bit disappointed." A pause. "And, of course, you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long."

Yet another tense pause as the two consultants stare each other down. Then, Sherlock's eyes flick to Artemis as he seems to consider option number two.

"Oh, you wouldn't do that, Sherlock," Jim tells him matter-of-factly.

"Wouldn't I?" Sherlock challenges, his aim switching to Artemis.

Artemis' heart jumps to her throat before settling as she remembers that shooting her has no benefit to Sherlock.

"You know it won't change anything. You'll still be in this same situation. Artemis will just be lying dead on the floor," Jim reminds him, sounding as if he doesn't particularly care one way or the other. "But if it will make you feel better to shoot the woman who betrayed you, then please, by all means, prove me wrong," Jim says, gesturing at Sherlock to get on with it.

Sherlock and Artemis lock gazes, both faces remaining carefully blank.

"No, you're bluffing," Sherlock says after a moment. "You've kept her around since childhood. Trusted her to get close to John and myself. Even the fact that she's here now proves that she isn't some disposable minion of yours. She's important to you. And people do get so sentimental about their pets," Sherlock says, using Jim's own words against him.

"Good, Sherlock. Very good," Jim compliments. "Now tell me, do you think a sniper round to the face is worth killing my little pet?"

Sherlock's jaw ticks as he realizes that he's beaten. He turns the gun's aim back to Jim.

"Atta boy," Jim praises before gesturing a dismissal at Artemis.

Artemis glances between him and Sherlock a moment before kicking off the wall and heading through the door to her right.

She meets Jim outside a moment later.

"That's it, then?" Artemis questions. He never did tell her exactly how this confrontation was meant to play out.

Jim takes the walkie talkie from her hip and tells the snipers to take aim again before he heads back in through the door Artemis had left through, Artemis on his heels.

"Sorry boys!" Jim yells as they enter the pool area again. "I'm so changeable! It is a weakness with me, but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness."

John is sitting against the wall and Sherlock is standing as they look at each other rather than at Artemis and Jim. The bomb is halfway between the two parties.

"You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't," Jim says seriously. "I would try to convince you, but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind," Jim continues in a mocking tone.

A moment passes of John and Sherlock regarding each other before John gives a shallow nod.

"Probably my answer has crossed yours," Sherlock says, pointing the gun towards them before lowering it to point at the bomb.

Artemis freezes as her heart races in her chest.

Sherlock hesitates. Hesitates just long enough that the tension is broken not by Sherlock pulling the trigger but by Jim's phone going off, The Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive" blasting out of his phone. John and Sherlock both look confused at the interruption. Artemis just barely suppresses a chuckle. Jim grimaces.

"Do you mind if I get that?" Jim asks sheepishly.

"No, no, please," Sherlock says nonchalantly. "You've got the rest of your life."

Jim takes out his phone and answers it.

"Hello?" He greets, still sounding sheepish. "Yes, of course it is. What do you want?"

Jim mouthes "sorry" to Sherlock who sarcastically mouthes back "oh, fine". Jim turns around towards Artemis who raises an eyebrow at him as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the phone.

"SAY THAT AGAIN!" Jim yells in a fury as he whips back around to face Sherlock.

Artemis, again, rolls her eyes at his dramatics, barely even flinching at the sudden volume change.

"Say that again and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you," Jim says menacingly into the phone. A pause and then Jim makes a noise of approval before hanging up. He lowers the phone and walks forwards, right up to the bomb, not at all scared of Sherlock shooting it. "Sorry. Wrong day to die," Jim says slowly.

"Oh. Did you get a better offer?" Sherlock asks casually, as if he wasn't about to blow them all to hell not even a minute ago.

"You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock," Jim tells Sherlock before turning to leave. He goes around the corner of the pool, raising the phone back to his ear and gesturing for Artemis to follow him. "So, if you have what you say you have, I'll make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes."

They exit through the door that they originally entered through. Jim doesn't look back once, focusing instead on his phone call. Artemis pauses at the door.

"It was nice being friends, John. Sherlock," Artemis tells them. "See you around." Artemis winks. As she exits, she lifts the walkie talkie to her lips and tells the snipers to stand down and pack it up.

\---

Later, Jim and Artemis lay naked in bed, curled up together. Artemis barely finishes basking in the afterglow before she speaks.

"Did you plan Adler's call?"

"Oh, what do you think?" Jim asks her, his tone telling her that, yes of course he did.

Jim leans in to kiss her lips, but Artemis pulls away and slaps him. Hard.

"Ouch," Jim deadpans, more curious about her slapping him than upset.

"You let me think I was going to die, you prick!" Artemis hisses.

"And?" Jim asks, obviously fishing for something, but Artemis doesn't understand what.

"And?" Artemis fishes back.

"Were you scared?"

Artemis' whole body freezes, still as a statue. Because she had been scared. She had… felt… scared.

"Interesting," Jim chuckles as he leans in again.

This time Artemis lets the kiss happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the first season (or series I guess is what they call them but that's just kind of confusing to me since I call the show as a whole a series). I'm really excited for what I have planned next for this story. Look forward to next upload as it will be a big one due to it having several side story uploads connected to it.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to preface this chapter with the fact that I really do love Irene Adler. I think she's an awesome character and I love the dynamic between her and Sherlock. That being said, I'm sorry that I treat her as more of a plot point than an actual character in this story.
> 
> TW: Implied sexual content, deception, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

In the months that followed, life went on as it normally did for the pair of criminals with the small addition of Jim's acquaintanceship with Irene Adler. But that was mostly over the phone, so it wasn't much of a change.

Now, Artemis is flipping through a newspaper with the headline 'Sherlock Holmes: net phenomenon'. Jim walks in and looks between her and the newspapers with various other headlines about Sherlock laid on the table in front of her.

"Taking up scrapbooking, are you?" Jim asks with an amused chuckle.

"Shut up," Artemis says as she closes the newspaper and sets it aside.

Jim's phone goes off, Adler's contact popping up. Jim answers it and gives her a moment to speak.

"Oh, beyond time, my dear," Jim says into the phone and winks at Artemis who quirks a brow at him.

Time for what, exactly?

\---

Artemis sighs fondly as she looks through the pictures she just snapped of Sherlock leaving Baker Street in nothing but a sheet. She walks away from the window and heads to her laptop that's set up at the small dining table. She downloads the pictures from the camera's chip and sends them to Jim to send to Adler. Then she packs up and leaves the flat across from 221B. Jim had bought the place under one of his many aliases once the reparations from the explosion were complete. Camera in hand, she climbs into a cab.

"Buckingham Palace, please," she tells the driver who nods and drives off in the direction of her chosen destination.

\---

Artemis and Jim settle in to watch the confrontation between Sherlock and Adler through the cameras that Adler is unaware are in her home.

Artemis rolls her eyes at Sherlock's overly dramatic acting as he pretends to be a vicar who was attacked in order to be let into Adler's home. Not even the maid is buying it.

"Now that's an entrance and a half," Artemis says, letting out a low whistle as Adler walks into the room Sherlock is in, wearing nothing but high heels. Women don't really do it for Artemis, but she can appreciate an attractive figure no matter the gender.

Jim's eyes remain focused on Sherlock and his reaction, barely ever straying to the naked woman. Artemis rolls her eyes. Right, she's the one with the crush on Sherlock Holmes.

John enters the room and is at once very uncomfortable. Adler is more concerned with whatever case Sherlock was on before he was escorted to the Palace than the photographs Sherlock is looking for. John heads outside to guard the door when Sherlock tricks Adler into admitting the photographs are in the room that they are in. Artemis listens half-heartedly as Sherlock goes over the details of the case.

"Think you can solve it?" Jim asks Artemis without looking away from the screen.

"Piss off," Artemis tells him as Sherlock says something about noises being important. So what if she can't solve a case at a glance? She's never claimed to be a genius. She doesn't have to be. She co-runs what is arguably the largest criminal network in existence. She's doing just fine without a genius IQ score, thanks.

"Clever boy," Jim chuckles as the smoke alarm goes off. She hears Sherlock's reasoning for doing this while she glances at a smaller screen to see John with a smoking, rolled-up magazine. She glances back just as Sherlock reveals the safe behind the mirror, but her eyes are drawn back to the smaller screen when some CIA guys rush in and take John hostage.

"Ooh, I love a good hostage situation," Jim comments as they enter the room and take Adler hostage too.

"Know what the code is?" Jim questions as they demand Sherlock enter the code.

"Piss off," Artemis sing-songs, so done with Jim's teasing.

Sherlock enters the code, says something about "Vatican cameos" which must be some kind of code because John ducks as Sherlock does the same while opening the safe. The gun inside the safe fires and Artemis wishes she could see the scene play out in slow-mo. Sherlock grabs the camera phone from the safe while Adler is distracted before going outside and firing a few rounds into the air. He comes back and sends John to check the rest of the house before revealing to Adler that he has the phone. They end up in the bedroom when John calls for Sherlock and they find him with the passed-out maid. John is sent away once again, this time by Adler to check the backdoor.

"Ooh, naughty girl," Jim laughs as Adler drugs, slaps, and hits Sherlock with a riding crop to get the phone from him. John comes into the room and worries over Sherlock as Adler heads to the window to make her escape.

"Well that's hardly inventive," Artemis practically complains when Adler reveals that the code was her measurements before leaving out the window, still in Sherlock's coat.

Jim rolls his eyes and turns down the volume as the police arrive, all the fun over with.

"So did you solve it yet?" Jim asks her.

"What? The boomerang thing?" Artemis asks, a proud grin on her face. No, she couldn't solve something like that at a glance, but give her time to think and she could surprise you.

"I knew you were more than just a pretty face," Jim chuckles as he leans in to kiss her.

Artemis presses her finger over his lips to stop him.

"Don't you have to meet with Adler?" Artemis reminds him.

Jim pouts and Artemis laughs. She pecks his pouting lips before reaching for her laptop.

"Perhaps you should ask Ms. Adler if you can borrow some toys," Artemis comments casually as she types in her own password into her laptop.

"Oh? Why? Have you been naughty?" Jim whispers in her ear, still not getting up.

"Maybe," Artemis teases. "But if you don't get going soon, I think you might just end up being the one in need of punishment."

Jim laughs, pecks her cheek, and hurries out of the room.

\---

It's three long and rather dull months later before the plan makes any real headway. Artemis enters a little café on the twenty third of December. It's a little late in the evening for coffee, but that isn't what she's here for.

"Good evening, Ms. Adler," Artemis greets as she sits across the table from said woman. "I believe you have something for me." Artemis holds out her hand expectantly. Jim had agreed to this plan only if Adler gave them the phone to give to Sherlock "as a sign of good faith".

"I believe I was meeting with your boss," Adler fires back, not moving to give up the phone.

"Oh, I assure you my relationship with Jim is far more than boss and employee," Artemis chuckles.

"You're Moriarty's Girl," Adler realizes.

"And you're The Woman. Now that we're through with introductions, the phone, Ms. Adler," Artemis says and moves her hand a bit to remind Adler that she is still waiting.

Adler barely hesitates before placing the phone in her hand, not wanting to offend Moriarty's Girl in anyway. Artemis doesn't even look at it before placing it in her pocket.

"I'll have it on the mantelpiece when it needs to be. Jim will text you tomorrow night after everything is in place and you can let Sherlock know where he can find it," Artemis tells Adler as she reaches into her bag. She hands a folder to Adler who flips through all the information. "New identities, plane tickets, safehouses, non-traceable bank accounts, whatever you'll need to keep alive for six months," Artemis explains. "Any questions?"

Adler shakes her head.

"Okay, then I have one. How's Sherlock these days?" Artemis asks her.

Adler looks up, her eyes narrowing in what could be suspicion, but Artemis notices the other signs. The dilation of her pupils and the tension in her jaw and hands. Her body answers the question Artemis really wanted answered. Adler was wary of another woman asking after Sherlock. Possessive of him. Her feelings aren't just for show.

"He's fine," Adler says, her voice ever so slightly higher than it had been. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Artemis tells Adler, with a pleasant smile on her face. "I'd better be off. Merry Christmas, Ms. Adler."

And thank you so very much for the present.

\---

Getting into Adler's phone isn't hard when Artemis knows her true feelings for Sherlock. Artemis chuckles at the lock screen. I AM SHERLOCKED. Oh, aren't they all.

She easily removes the software that would normally make it impossible to upload anything from the phone. A bit of a challenge to get around her encryptions, but not impossible with her knowledge of programming. Jim plans elaborate schemes when he gets bored, Artemis takes online classes.

Artemis then uploads the contents of the phone into a file named Irene Adler on her laptop before leaving a little message on a hidden file in the phone. She reinstalls the software and places the now relocked phone in a bloodred present box and ties a thin, black rope as the bow.

Artemis looks out the window and sees the lights still on in 221B. She sighs and sits in a chair by the window to wait it out.

It's an atrocious hour by the time the lights finally do go out. Artemis adds insomniac to her list of Sherlock facts. She waits another hour yet before heading across the street.

Artemis quietly tuts as the key she had made from an imprint of John's key so long ago works in the lock. She has a lock picking kit in case it didn't, but she figured she'd give it a go. And it seems to have paid off.

Artemis climbs the stairs, avoiding the ones that she knows creak and slips into the lounge of 221B. It's dark apart from the Christmas lights that cast the room in a soft glow. She leaves the present on the mantelpiece and a note between the strings of Sherlock's violin.

As she is about to leave, something catches her eye. Christmas lights reflect tantalizingly off of a nice crystal ashtray on the coffee table. Artemis takes the granite ashtray beside it and leaves the flat as quietly as she had entered it.

\---

Artemis is packing up to leave the next day when she gets a text from Jim.

'Lockdown. -JM'

Artemis sighs and begins to unpack again.

\---

[Player Three: Sherlock Holmes - Chapter 2]

\---

Artemis has been living in the flat across the way ever since that night. Jim had found a breach in the network and was working to get rid of it. Until then, they know that she'll be targeted. Fortunately, they like to keep their Sherlock plans close to the chest, so the network would have no idea what she had been up to before going on lockdown. Right where she is is the safest place to be, despite being in such close proximity to "the enemy".

She doesn't leave for anything, gets anything she needs delivered to her. Leaving means risking Mycroft's goons catching sight of her. As far as Mycroft is concerned, this flat belongs to an agoraphobic woman named Caitlin Holiday.

She spends her days perusing the new file on her laptop to figure out how to put it to use, doing her usual work with the network, well anything she can do remotely, and keeping an eye on the comings and goings of 221B Baker Street. The only really interesting thing that happens in those three months is the incident on the day of New Year's Eve. Other than that, it's just clients or Lestrade coming and going.

Lockdown is annoying, but nothing new as this has to happen sometimes. Hazard of the life she lives.

\---

[Player Three: Sherlock Holmes - Chapter 3]

\---

[Player Two: Jim Moriarty - Chapter 1]

\---

The day she sees Irene Adler sneak into 221B is the same day that Artemis receives the all clear text from Jim.

'Time to come home, darling. I'm thinking Kelly Ainsley's flat. -JM'

Artemis is quick to pack her things and leave the flat she never wants to set foot in again. Three months is far too long to stay in one place.

The flat that they have under the name Kelly Ainsley is on the other side of the city. When Artemis gets there she finds Jim in the bedroom, laying in the bed amongst a sea of small-breed dog plushies.

Artemis quickly snaps a picture. Jim's eyes widen in surprise and he lunges out of the bed, chasing after Artemis who makes a run for it.

"Delete that photo right now, Artemis!" Jim yells as he chases her around the coffee table a few times.

"Never!" Artemis calls back.

Jim tackles her onto the sofa, knocking the breath out of her that she doesn't get to catch as he's soon tickling her. Artemis squeals and squirms, but it's no use, she's pinned.

"Uncle! Uncle!" Artemis cries and can finally catch her breath as Jim lets up.

"Delete the picture," Jim demands again.

Artemis pouts up at him.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. That's not fair," Jim complains.

Artemis continues to pout.

"Damn puppy eyes," Jim mutters. "Fine," he relents. "But you show no one that picture, understood? That includes Sebastian, Artemis."

Artemis grins and pulls Jim down by his tie into a kiss that she hopes takes his breath away.

\---

[Player Three: Sherlock Holmes - Chapter 4]

\---

Later that night, they lay asleep in bed, all the plushies pushed to the floor. Jim's phone goes off and he groans as he reaches blindly for it. He picks it up without looking at the caller ID.

"Hel-" Jim starts to greet, but is apparently cut off. Jim winces at the loud voice that comes through the phone. It's not quite loud enough for Artemis to make out the words, but she can tell that it's a woman's voice. "Well perhaps, my dear, you should use a less obvious passcode next time. If there is a next time. Adieux," Jim says and hangs up the phone, placing it back on the side table before laying back down and pulling Artemis against him again. He kisses her bare shoulder and is quick to drift back to sleep. Artemis is quick to follow his lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Deception, kleptomania, implied sexual content, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

Artemis sighs as she checks the clock for the tenth time in as many minutes. It's official, she's bored out of her mind. She takes her tea cup and heads to the back porch of the little safehouse.

It wasn't long after the Adler fiasco that Jim sent Artemis into hiding. Deep into hiding. They knew that Mycroft Holmes would be more determined than ever to find them and Jim wasn't going to let that happen. Not to Artemis anyway.

Dartmoor was fine for a while. The scenery was pretty and there was a mystery to solve. That's what Jim does when he has to send Artemis into hiding, he sends her somewhere with some sort of mystery afoot. Artemis solved Dartmoor's mystery after a week of being there. The network was able to get her credentials to get into Baskerville with relatively good security clearance, but it wasn't perfect. She had to charm her way up the ladder until she was rubbing elbows with the likes of Commander Major Barrymore and Dr. Bob Frankland. Eventually she was able to discover Project H.O.U.N.D. After that there was only the issue of the actual paw prints found in the moor. That one was easily solved with a few chats with the couple who owned the local inn. Just a few keywords thrown into small talk and soon they were telling her the story of the dog they had let loose on the moor.

So, mystery solved. And now, two weeks later, even the scenery is getting repetitive and dull. So, when little Cassidy Stapleton mentions her missing rabbit to Artemis, Artemis is quick to tell her about a man who can solve any mystery named Sherlock Holmes. But she's sure that the email little Cassidy sent him probably won't be enough to get the man to Dartmoor. So she sends Henry Knight an anonymous email with a link to John Watson's blog. When he goes running off to London the next day, Artemis is quick to follow so that she can give Sherlock further incentive to visit Dartmoor.

\---

[Player Three: Sherlock Holmes - Chapter 5]

\---

Sherlock had solved the case within a few days, the showoff. Of course, the only way she knows this is the sudden death of Dr. Frankland not long after an animal apparently set off a mine. It isn't too hard to figure out what had really happened. That plus the text she gets that morning is confirmation enough for Artemis.

'Why did you send me here? -SH'

Geez, she knows he's an insomniac, but four-thirty in the morning seems late even for the most extreme of night owls.

'I didn't send you, I invited you. -AD'

Artemis throws off her covers and stretches. She doubts she'll be falling back asleep any time soon.

'You're here then? In Dartmoor? -SH'

'Maybe. -AD'

Those little dots that tell you when a person is typing appear and disappear a few times. Artemis rolls her eyes and gets up to get ready for the day as the dots do their dance. She's half dressed by the time her phone finally pings with a new text.

'Coffee? -SH'

Artemis snorts and sends him an affirmative for the inn in twenty minutes.

\---

Artemis arrives at the inn fifteen minutes later and orders some tea from the younger of the innkeepers. Sherlock arrives a few minutes later.

"Artemis," he greets curtly as he sits in the spot across from her. He takes off his gloves and puts them in his pocket. Then he unwinds his scarf, folds it with practiced ease, and places it on the table before pouring himself a cup of tea.

"I'm not much of a coffee drinker," Artemis comments idly before resting her elbows on the table and chin on her interlaced fingers. "You know, Henry never did call me."

"He had lost interest by the time he made it to Baker Street," Sherlock says as he put milk and sugar in his tea. Artemis' nose scrunches. She's a tea purist, prefers it straight.

"Really? That's a shame. He's rather cute and just my type," Artemis continues with the casual small talk.

"On the dangerous side and perhaps a tad insane, if I remember correctly. And I always do," Sherlock tells her, using nearly her exact phrasing.

Artemis smiles into her tea cup before setting it down.

"You thought I was talking about you," Artemis teases.

"You were heavily implying so at the time," Sherlock counters.

Artemis shrugs.

"So, for curiosity's sake, what did you do that had Henry reconsidering calling you?" Sherlock asks after a moment.

"Why does it have to be something I did? Perhaps I'm just not his type," Artemis points out.

"Oh, please. A guy like him and a girl like you?" Sherlock scoffs.

"A girl like me?" Artemis questions, amused and highly curious.

"One that's way out of his league," Sherlock easily responds. "Well, at a glance anyway."

"Sherlock Holmes, are you flirting with me?" Artemis asks, amusement continuing to dance in her voice.

"No, I'm merely stating a fact. Objectively you are much more conventionally attractive than Henry Knight," Sherlock says.

"So what you're saying is that you find me attractive," Artemis continues on in her teasing.

"Only objectively, I assure you," Sherlock says like a slap in the face.

"Ouch," Artemis laughs as she shakes her head fondly. She didn't realize how much she had missed Sherlock's callous nature. "I may have flirted with another man within sight of Henry," Artemis admits with a shrug. "Ordinary people tend to frown at that sort of thing. Society is so mononormative when it comes to relationships."

Sherlock hums in disinterest before changing the subject.

"Why did you invite me here, Artemis? This case clearly has nothing to do with you or Moriarty."

"I was bored," Artemis says with a shrug. "This place is so dreadfully dull, isn't it?"

"Top secret military projects and a giant dog running rampant? Yes, you're right, incredibly boring," Sherlock says sarcastically.

"Oh, I figured all that out after a week and that was two weeks ago, so my apologies for being just a bit bored of this quiet little village," Artemis says.

"A week?" Sherlock questions, amusement coloring his voice.

"Oh, shut up," Artemis says sourly. "Not all of us can have a big brother with fancy credentials. Some of us have to work to get into top secret facilities."

Sherlock tilts his head and shrugs as he concedes her point.

"So, if you solved the mystery two weeks ago, why are you still here?"

"After the stunt I pulled with Adler's phone?" Artemis questions rhetorically. "I'm in hiding, Sherlock. Big Brother Holmes with all his fancy credentials and army of secret service people are after me."

"And yet you reveal your location to me," Sherlock points out.

"Like I said, I was bored," Artemis reminds him. "Besides, you wouldn't tell Mycroft about this little rendezvous of ours."

"I wouldn't?" Sherlock challenges.

"No, you wouldn't. You know what he'd do to me if he found me," Artemis tells him, very confident in her response.

"And?" Sherlock draws out the word, fishing for why he should care.

"And-" Artemis says, drawing out the word as he had "-you wouldn't want that to happen to me." At Sherlock's quirked brow, she continues her explanation. "You aren't going to tell Mycroft where I am for the same reason that Irene Adler is still alive."

"Oh? And why's that?" Sherlock asks. If he's surprised that she knows about Adler, he doesn't let it show on his face.

"Because you like Adler," Artemis says, childishly drawing out the 'i' in 'like'. "Just like you like me," Artemis says, again drawing out the second 'like'.

"I don't like anybody in the way that you're implying, Artemis. I barely like anybody at all, really," Sherlock tells her seriously.

"Okay. Then why aren't you going to tell Mycroft?" Artemis asks him, still confident he won't.

"Because my business is my business and not Mycroft's," Sherlock says seriously.

"Your business, am I?" Artemis laughs. "I co-run a criminal empire, Sherlock. Surely I'm more the government's business than yours."

Artemis drains the last of her tea before standing and walking the two steps it takes her to be beside Sherlock. She leans down.

"But I do much prefer being your business," Artemis whispers in his ear before kissing his cheek and leaving the dining area of the inn.

As she exits the building, Artemis wraps Sherlock's scarf around her neck.

\---

The next night, Artemis lays in bed with Jim after celebrating their reunion. Jim twirls Sherlock's scarf around his hands and between his fingers mindlessly as he mutters about Artemis and her klepto tendencies. She's just happy that he isn't upset with her for compromising her location.

Artemis traces a new scar on Jim's chest. This one looks to have been made by some sort of jagged knife. She doesn't comment on it. She knows he doesn't want to talk about it. She simply kisses the new scar tissue and then rests her head on his shoulder.

"I missed you," Artemis tells him.

"I missed you, too," Jim automatically replies.

It's about as close to "I love you" as they ever get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Deception and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

It's been just over a year since the game they had played with Sherlock, but only about a month since Artemis had seen Sherlock in Dartmoor. And yet in that time he's managed to become quite famous with several important cases to his name. The Reichenbach Falls case being his most famous, of course. He also saved some big, important banker and managed to find and capture Peter Ricoletti. Admittedly Jim had helped him with that last one. But none of those cases have anything on what Jim has planned for today.

Artemis is waiting just down the street when she finally gets Jim's text.

'Showtime. -JM'

Attached is a photo Jim took with his front-facing camera of himself in the Crown Jewels that Artemis quickly downloads and saves.

Artemis heads down to 221 Baker Street. The key she made so long ago still works. They seriously ought to change their locks. She heads up the stairs, not bothering to skip the ones that still creak since it's the middle of the day and they'll probably just think it's Mrs. Hudson, if they notice at all. She then throws open the door to 221B which bangs loudly against the adjacent wall, startling John who is reading a newspaper in his chair and Sherlock who is at his microscope in the kitchen.

"Hello, boys!" Artemis exclaims with a huge grin on her face. "Did you miss me?"

Once it is clear to them that Artemis isn't currently a danger to them, John hurries to call Lestrade. Artemis casually walks over, past the hanged dummy, and picks up the deer-stalker on the coffee table before taking John's vacated seat. Sherlock walks over and takes a seat in his own chair. He does that thing he does with his hands, the almost-prayer-position. Artemis likes to call them his contemplating-hands. He leans back in his chair and studies her.

"Why are you calling the police?" Artemis asks innocently as she places the hat on her head.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with you drugging John and strapping a bomb to him," Sherlock says, starting falsely cheerful but his voice dripping venom by the end.

"Ooh, you're being mean this time. Is it because we're on your home turf? Are you being territorial?" Artemis teases.

Sherlock just glares at her. Artemis sighs.

"I think you'll find that the fingerprints on that particular bomb belong to a man who was supposedly dead long before the incident ever took place," Artemis tells him.

"Mm," Sherlock hums in concedation. "And the drugging?"

"What drugging?" Artemis asks him with the most falsely innocent expression.

"Ah, I see," Sherlock realizes, but before he can say anything else, John re-enters the room.

"Lestrade is on his way," John informs them, keeping a cautious eye on Artemis.

"Really?" Artemis asks, genuinely surprised by this. "I would have thought he'd be too busy to come himself. What with all Jim has going on."

"What does he have going on?" Sherlock questions, eyes narrowing.

"It's warm in here, isn't it?" Artemis asks as she ignores Sherlock and unwinds the scarf around her neck. "You really ought to turn down your heating. Overusing it is such a-"

"That's your scarf, Sherlock," John says, cutting Artemis off. "What's she doing with your scarf? How did she get that?"

"I borrowed it," Artemis tells John.

"You stole it," Sherlock corrects her.

"Borrowed without permission," Artemis compromises.

"Oh, so you're giving it back then, are you? Any chance you brought back the ashtray as well?" Sherlock questions mock-casually.

"When did this happen?" John demands.

"Christmas for the ashtray. Dartmoor for the scarf," Sherlock answers flippantly.

"Dartmoor!?" John nearly yells in disbelief.

Before John can go on a rant, there are loud, stomping steps on the stairs and Lestrade lets himself into the lounge. He walks towards Artemis who stands with a sigh and assumes the position. He pats her down before taking out his handcuffs.

"Artemis Doyle, I am arresting you-"

"Geez, Detective," Artemis hisses, cutting Lestrade off. "Are you this mean when you use handcuffs in the bedroom as well?"

"Oh, quit complaining," Lestrade says. "I am arresting you under suspicion of-"

"And you wonder why your wife left you," Artemis mutters just loud enough for him to hear. She hisses again as he tightens the cuffs further.

Lestrade finishes his little arrest speech before he hands Artemis off to another officer he brought with him. As she is being led away, she can hear Lestrade explaining the break-ins to Sherlock and John.

\---

With no physical evidence against her, Artemis is released within the hour. By sheer coincidence, Sherlock and John seem to be leaving Scotland Yard at the same time as Artemis.

"See you at the trial," Artemis tells them with a wink before heading out to get a cab.

\---

The trial date is set for six weeks after the crime took place. Giving plenty of time for evidence gathering and for each side to make their case. Not that Jim is mounting any sort of defense. He doesn't need to.

For Artemis, it's six lonely weeks of running the network without Jim. Falling asleep and waking up to an empty bed. Not even being able to visit him as even if they were allowing him visitors that weren't legal council, visiting him would only implicate her.

The trial date couldn't come fast enough.

\---

Artemis is surprised when she runs into John alone at the courthouse. Isn't he supposed to be acting as Sherlock's guard dog?

"Hello, John," Artemis greets him kindly.

"What are you doing here?" John whisper-yells at her as people in professional attire pass them.

"Crime of the century?" Artemis says, gesturing around at the courthouse. "Journalist?" Artemis says and gestures at herself. "Kind of makes sense, doesn't it?"

"We both know that journalism isn't your real profession, Artemis," John reminds her.

Normally, Artemis would retort with some sort of comeback, but she isn't Artemis today. Her face falls into a sad smile.

"You are…" Artemis trails off and licks her lips as if she is struggling with her words. "You are such a good man, John Watson. And I am truly sorry for what I had to do. For what he made me do," Artemis says, putting emphasis and contempt on the word 'he'. She knows he'll assume she's talking about Jim at the moment, but hopefully that will change in a couple of months. "I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

As John looks at her, somewhere between shocked and confused, Artemis walks past him and heads up towards the gallery.

\---

Artemis sits in a spot not too far away from Kitty Riley, the journalist that Jim had decided would suit their plan best. She blends into the background for most of the trial as the offense brings forth piles of evidence that implicate Jim. It's only as Sherlock is sworn in that she truly plays her role. She glares at the man on the stand and mentally works herself up to get tears forming in her eyes.

"A 'consulting criminal'?" The prosecutor clarifies.

"Yes," Sherlock confirms, his eyes remaining on Jim as they have since he was sworn in.

"Your words. Can you expand on that answer?" The prosecutor continues.

"James Moriarty is for hire," Sherlock explains.

"A tradesman?" The prosecutor clarifies.

"Yes," Sherlock confirms.

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating?" The prosecutor fishes.

"No, the sort who'd plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I'm sure he'd make a pretty decent job of your boiler," Sherlock answers, causing the courtroom to fill with chuckles.

Artemis has to fight down her own laughter. It's rather hard to stay looking upset when Sherlock is being so amusing.

"Would you describe him as-" the prosecutor begins.

"Leading," Sherlock interrupts.

"What?" The prosecutor asks, astonished.

"Can't do that. You're leading the witness," Sherlock corrects her. He gestures to the defender. "He'll object and the judge will uphold."

"Mr. Holmes," the judge sighs, exasperated.

"Ask me how. How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him?" Sherlock demands more than suggests. "Do they not teach you this?"

"How would you describe this man?" The prosecutor asks, sounding a touch annoyed herself. "His character?"

"First mistake. James Moriarty isn't a man at all."

Artemis forces herself to tremble, her breath to hitch, and her tears to fall.

"He's a spider. A spider at the center of a web."

Artemis covers her mouth to muffle the, admittedly fake, sob that falls from her lips. A few people sitting near her, including Kitty Riley and John, glance her way.

"A criminal web with a thousand threads. And he knows precisely how each and every one of them dances."

Artemis stands abruptly and hurries out of the gallery, making a bit of a scene, and feeling Sherlock's eyes on her as she goes.

It isn't too long later that Kitty finds Artemis crying in one of the stalls in the woman's bathroom.

"Miss? Are you okay?" Kitty asks.

"No," Artemis sobs. "I just couldn't listen as he sat there and-" Artemis cuts herself off with another sob. "I just can't do it anymore. Any of it."

"Any of what?" Kitty questions, but Artemis just continues to cry and babble incoherently. Kitty sits outside the stall, leaning against it, waiting for Artemis to calm down. She does so after a few minutes and slowly opens the door.

"Sorry. Hormones. I-" Artemis says, her breath hitching as if she's on the verge of crying again.

"It's okay," Kitty says, handing Artemis some tissues that she takes gratefully. "Do you want to talk about it? I'm Kitty, by the way. Kitty Riley."

"Jennif-" Artemis starts but stops abruptly. "I mean, Artemis Doyle," she introduces.

"You sure about that?" Kitty asks, her journalist senses likely going haywire at the scoop she's about to unearth.

"No," Artemis whispers. "No, I'm not."

\---

They end up sitting in a little booth in a café as Artemis spins a tale for Kitty.

"My name is Jennifer Brook," Artemis begins as she stares down into her tea cup. "About a year and a half ago, the house my husband and I were living in burned down. No one was hurt, thank God, but we lost everything. The insurance, they-" Artemis cuts herself off as if choked up and takes a deep, calming breath. "The insurance didn't cover anything. It was some electrical thing that wasn't on the insurance for whatever reason. I don't know. A whole lot of legal talk that I just don't understand," Artemis says with a broken self-deprecating laugh. "So we were suddenly homeless. We did eventually manage to get a roof over our heads, but it wasn't exactly a very nice one or in a particularly great part of town. And we were drowning in debts."

Artemis pauses as she takes a few breaths and sips her tea. Kitty waits patiently for her to continue.

"Then, out of nowhere, this man approaches Richard, my husband, with a job offer. Richard is an actor, see, and this man had a role for him to play. Offered me a role as well to play alongside Richard. And he was willing to pay. Rather a lot actually. The money was good. Really good. And all we had to do was play our roles. No cameras, just acting to an audience of his friends and family. Richard as a criminal mastermind-" Kitty's eyes widen in realization "-and me as his partner in crime."

"Richard, your husband, he's-" Kitty begins.

"Yeah," Artemis says quickly, cutting Kitty off as though she doesn't want to hear the words spoken aloud.

"And the man who hired you was…" Kitty trails off, but Artemis doesn't cut her off this time. "Was Sherlock Holmes?"

Artemis nods her head.

"He was nice at first, you know? We became friends," Artemis tells Kitty with a sad smile. "But things just got out of hand so quickly. The things he had us do, they were-" Artemis takes another deep breath. "I knew it was wrong, what we were doing. Criminal, even. But we needed the money. And what we, ourselves, did wasn't hurting anyone, so-" Artemis sighs in a way that says that she knows and accepts that what she did was wrong.

In the long pause that follows, Kitty pours her more tea despite her cup being mostly full.

"I know that tomorrow James Moriarty is going to walk free," Artemis starts seriously. "Or he will if Sherlock keeps up his end of the deal. And then James Moriarty and Artemis Doyle will disappear forever." Artemis runs her finger along the edge of her tea cup. "We were going to go to the States. The majority of Americans don't pay too much attention to what goes on in other countries, you know? We could have had a fairly normal life there."

"Could have?" Kitty questions. "What changed?"

Artemis lets her hand fall to rest on her lower belly.

"Life."

Kitty's eyes widen in realization once again.

"We only just found out about it not even a week before Sherlock's grand scheme was scheduled. Richard didn't want to go through with it anymore. He tried to talk Sherlock out of it, but he-" Artemis voice drips with venom as she hisses out the next two words "-wouldn't listen." Her hand grips the handle of her tea cup tightly. "Said if we backed out now that he could get us thrown in prison." Artemis laughs brokenly at this. "And he isn't wrong either, we've done some things that could get us time." Artemis shakes her head. "He asked Richard if that's what he wanted, to watch his kid grow up from behind bars." Artemis lets her tears fall. "But Richard just doesn't want our child growing up and thinking their father is a bad man. Could you imagine if they got a hold of some old news clipping and saw who their father supposedly was?" Artemis wipes away her tears as she continues. "So Richard played along and went through with the plan. But I just can't do this anymore, Ms. Riley. I just can't."

Kitty reaches across the table and takes Artemis' hands in hers.

"Let me help you, Jennifer. Please, I want to help."

"How?" Artemis whispered through her tears.

Kitty smiles gently as she explains who she is and starts to come up with a plan to help the couple that she believes were abused by the man known as Sherlock Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, two things.
> 
> One, I, as an American, feel perfectly justified in my call out of Americans. (P.S. I apologize for my Americanisms to any British readers.)
> 
> Two, I've got another meta mystery for you all. There is a character in this story that I have never named but that Artemis uses her name for as her alias in this chapter. The clue is in the other female aliases mentioned in this story. Let's see who can win this round of Deductions!
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in uploading. Writing anything even resembling angst is difficult for me.
> 
> TW: Unhealthy coping mechanisms (excessive drinking in this case), deception, implied sexual content, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

The night between the two days of the trial, Artemis gets a text from their best hacker.

'Task accomplished.'

Artemis grins down at her phone before placing it back on the side table and turning back to her laptop on her lap. She continues sorting through their huge influx of new emails, deleting any and all that are trying to simply buy the code off of them. Can't sell something that doesn't exist.

\---

The next day, Artemis finds herself walking up the stairs to 221B instead of the steps to the courthouse. She had told Kitty that she just couldn't sit through another court session. Kitty had promised to call her and tell her what the verdict was.

Artemis finds Sherlock sitting in his chair and staring off into space. At home instead of at the trial, just as Jim predicted.

"You should really change your locks," Artemis says from her spot by the door as she waves her key in the air.

Sherlock, apparently not at all surprised by her presence, turns to look at her.

"Shouldn't you be at the trial?" Sherlock questions.

"Shouldn't you be at the trial?" Artemis parrots, putting emphasis on the 'you', as she walks over and gracefully drops into John's chair.

They study each other for a long moment before Sherlock breaks the silence.

"What exactly is your relationship with James Moriarty?"

Artemis blinks once. Twice. Three times. She's absolutely blindsided by this line of questioning. She thought that he would've asked her about the stunt she pulled the day before at the trial.

"We're partners," Artemis finally answers.

"Of more than just the criminal variety, I assume," Sherlock says casually.

A flirtatious grin takes up Artemis' face as she gets up, crosses what little space there is between them, and crawls into Sherlock's lap.

"Much more," she purrs as she fiddles with his shirt collar in a very similar way to how she likes to fiddle with Jim's ties.

"But not in a romantic sense," Sherlock continues calmly, as if Artemis were still sitting across from him instead of straddling his thighs. "Well, not on his end, anyway."

Artemis' hands pause in their fiddling.

"How hard is it, Artemis? Loving a man incapable of returning the sentiment?"

Artemis hands tighten, gripping Sherlock's collar as if holding on for dear life.

"A man incapable of feeling anything even resembling love."

Artemis begins to shake. With what, she isn't sure. Rage? Sadness?

"You're a cruel man, Sherlock Holmes," Artemis whispers, her voice just barely audible.

She gets up and leaves the flat without another word.

\---

Artemis is walking into the flat they have under the name Brook when she gets a call from Kitty who tells her the good news. Artemis promises to talk to "Richard" about Kitty's offer when he gets home.

After she hangs up, Artemis grabs the decanter of whiskey that is sitting out from when she had Sebastian over a few nights ago. She doesn't even bother with a glass as she drops into an armchair and takes a long draw straight from the decanter.

Sherlock. The bastard. Who does he think he is?

Artemis takes another swig.

He doesn't know her. He doesn't know Jim. He has no right to comment on their relationship.

Artemis takes another swig.

Jim cares about her. She knows he does. He's destroyed people for just looking at Artemis the wrong way.

Artemis takes another swig.

But…

Artemis' hand shakes as she lifts the decanter to her lips again.

Sherlock's right.

Artemis throws the decanter at the wall. She watches as it shatters, glass and amber liquid showering the carpet of the lounge. Artemis' heart shatters along with it.

\---

Jim arrives not too long later, presumably heading over right after he had his little confrontation with Sherlock. He finds Artemis in bed, completely drunk and hugging a bottle of whiskey.

"Do I want to know what happened to the first bottle?" Jim asks as he begins to undress.

"I would have thought the evidence made that pretty clear," Artemis spits out.

"I meant more the why it was thrown against the wall more than the fact that it was thrown against the wall," Jim explains as he hangs up his suit and puts it in a drycleaning bag.

"Because I decided the wall needed a hole in it," Artemis deadpans.

"Interesting design choice," Jim says as he gets into bed.

Artemis rolls over so she's facing away from him.

"Are you upset with me?" Jim asks incredulously, extra emphasis on the word 'me'.

"I'm not upset at all. I can't be. I don't feel emotions, remember?" Artemis says, voice forcefully void of emotion.

There is a long, uncomfortable silence.

"I missed you," Jim says hesitantly. Uncertainly.

Artemis takes a deep breath.

"I missed you, too," Artemis says, letting Jim know that, at least for the most part, they're still okay.

Jim wraps an arm around her waist and holds her close as they drift off to sleep.

\---

The next two months are harder than they should have been. Playing a normal couple, so completely in love and working to welcome a new life into the world, is hard on Artemis who's chest still aches from Sherlock's words.

They stay in Kitty's guest room. Kitty thought it'd be best that they live somewhere where Sherlock wouldn't find them. They work with Kitty to put together an exposé, as well as with a legal team Kitty found that are working to grant them pardons for what crimes they committed while they were working for Sherlock. Only behind their closed door do they work on the network. Even then, it's mostly just sorting emails. They aren't taking on any new cases at the moment and the Bruhl kidnapping was already planned out in advance. All they have to do is wait for the day their plan will unfold.

\---

Artemis had gotten the groceries while Jim pulled his little stunt with the cab. They met back up after he was done and headed back to Kitty's. They weren't all that surprised to find evidence of Kitty's flat being broken into. They had left the breadcrumbs for Sherlock to follow. They couldn't have known for sure, they had a whole contingency plan set up for if Sherlock waited until the exposé on Saturday to discover the extent of their plan. Artemis is happy that this is the plan they're going to be able to use, she much prefers it to the other one.

"We don't have a coffee grinder, Rich. What are we supposed to do with whole-" Artemis says as they enter but cuts herself off when she sees Sherlock and John in the lounge. Artemis backs away, making sure she is past the stairs that Jim backs into so he can make his escape later.

"You said they wouldn't find us here," Jim says, voice shaking. "You said that we'd be safe here."

"You are safe, Richard. I'm a witness. He wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses," Kitty reassures.

"So that's your source? Moriarty is Richard Brook?" John asks as he points at Jim, glaring furiously.

"Of course he's Richard Brook. There is no Moriarty. There never has been," Kitty says.

"What are you talking about?" John questions.

"Look him up," Kitty tells John. "Rich Brook. An actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty."

Sherlock's eyes flit between Jim and Artemis, barely even seeming to be listening to the conversation between Kitty and John.

"John, please, I know you're a good man-" Artemis begins, echoing her words from the courthouse, but John cuts her off.

"No, shut up!" John yells and Artemis flinches. "You're Artemis and he's Moriarty! You were going to blow me up!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jim says holding up his hands as though in surrender. "He paid me. I needed the work. I'm an actor, I was out of work and we had debts-"

"Sherlock, you better explain," John demands, looking towards Sherlock. "Because I am not getting this."

"I'll be doing the explaining," Kitty says as she gets a file out of her work bag and hands it to John. "In print. It's all here. Conclusive proof."

John flips through Kitty's drafts of the exposé.

"You invented James Moriarty. Your nemesis," Kitty tells Sherlock.

"Invented him?" John scoffs.

"Mm-hm," Kitty hums in confirmation. "Invented all the crimes, actually. And to cap it all, you made up a master villain."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" John says, closing the folder and waving it about.

"Ask them," Kitty says, pointing at Jim and Artemis. "They're right here, just ask them."

"Oh? And where do you fit into all of this, Artemis?" John asks incredulously.

"That's not my name," Artemis says, voice shaking.

"Leave Jenny out of this, Dr. Watson, please," Jim says, playing the protective husband. "I'm the one you want."

"Oh, for God's sake!" John swears. "This man was on trial!" He yells at Kitty.

"Yes," Kitty says and points at Sherlock. "And you paid him. Paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury."

Sherlock continues to say nothing as he continues to watch the two criminals carefully.

"Not exactly a West End role, but I'll bet the money was good," Kitty says, walking over to Artemis and gently placing a hand on her lower back in comfort. "So good, in fact, that they didn't even have to sell their story."

"Then why did they, hm?" John scoffs.

Kitty looks between Artemis and Jim. It's Jim who speaks up.

"Please, Dr. Watson. You have to understand. I don't want my child growing up thinking I'm a bad man."

John and Sherlock's eyes immediately magnetize to Artemis' stomach. Artemis is wearing the smallest of fake pregnancy bellies that has her just barely showing. No one would even notice unless they were looking for it.

"I am sorry," Jim says, holding his hands together as though in prayer as he pleads with John. "I am. I am sorry."

"So - so-" John begins, stuttering as he tears his eyes away from Artemis' belly to look at Kitty. "-this is the story that you're going to publish?" John holds up the folder. "The big conclusion of it all. Moriarty's an actor?" John says in disbelief, shaking his head.

"He knows I am!" Jim says desperately as he gestures at Sherlock who still has yet to say anything. "I have proof! I have proof! Show him, Kitty! Show him something!"

"Yeah, show me something," John mocks and Kitty gets out the folder of documents. Among those documents are articles about Richard Brook's acting career as the Storyteller, his portfolio, Richard and Jennifer's wedding pictures, etc. Artemis and Jim had taken wedding photos years ago in case they ever needed them for something like this or to decorate their safehouses. All they had to do was doctor any names that appeared in them to fit their current aliases.

Jim nearly smirks at Sherlock while Kitty and John are distracted by the evidence. Then he slips back into his persona as Richard Brook as he continues to speak.

"I'm on TV. I'm on kids' TV. I'm the Storyteller. It's on DVD," Jim says as he looks between John and Sherlock before his gaze remains on Sherlock. "Just tell them. It's all coming out now. It's all over," Jim pleads. "Just tell them. Just tell them! Tell him!" Jim says, voice becoming more and more frantic.

Sherlock takes one step, just one little step, towards Jim who nearly falls over in his haste to back away from Sherlock.

"NO!" Jim yells, his voice full of terror as he takes a few steps up the stairs. "Don't you touch me! Don't you lay a finger on me!"

"Stop it!" Sherlock yells furiously. "Stop it now!"

"Don't hurt me!" Jim yells as he turns and runs up the stairs.

"Don't let him get away!" John yells as he and Sherlock give chase.

"Leave him alone!" Artemis screams, her voice full of fear and panic as tears well up in her eyes and stream down her face. "Richard!"

Kitty holds Artemis back from running after them. Jim must have succeeded in his escape, as Sherlock and John head back down the stairs.

"Don't you dare!" Kitty yells as Sherlock takes a step towards them. "Get out or I'm calling the police!"

"Is it worth it, then, Artemis?" Sherlock spits out. "All of this for a man who will never love you back?"

Artemis' eyes harden and her fists clench at her sides.

"Get. Out," she growls. "Get out. Get out! GET OUT!" Artemis says, progressively louder and louder until she is screaming and struggling in Kitty's hold.

Sherlock and John do as she says and leave. Kitty locks the door after them and stays between it and Artemis when she tries to go out as well. Artemis paces while Kitty watches out the window.

"I have to go after him. I have to," Artemis mutters over and over again until, after she is sure that Sherlock and John are gone, Kitty reluctantly lets her leave.

\---

Artemis arrives at the agreed upon safehouse and Jim is there waiting for her. She barely gets the door closed before Jim is pushing her up against it and pressing his lips against hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.

Artemis' mind is screaming at her.

Say. It. Say it. Say it! SAY IT!

Artemis doesn't say a word as she lets Jim drag her to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th to all you Americans. Hope you're staying safe out there. It also happens to be my birthday, so I figured I'd give you all a present in the form of another chapter (and two side chapters). Unfortunately I'll be needing a bit of a break after this one because I have two years of original story to write as I planned for a lot of development to happen during the time skip between seasons. Expect at least a few days delay.
> 
> TW: Implied sexual content and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

They were laying in bed together the next morning. They hadn't slept at all, spending the whole night wrapped around each other. Neither wanting to waste a second of their last night together for who knows how long by sleeping. Artemis is rather afraid it could be their last night together. Ever. Period. End of story.

So, when Sherlock's text comes in and Jim begins getting dressed, Artemis has to make sure.

"You do have a plan, don't you?"

Jim just gives her that look. The one she has gotten since she was little. The one that told her that he thought whatever she just said was exceptionally dumb.

"Do I ever not have a plan, Artemis?"

"What if Sherlock has one too?" Artemis questions.

"Oh, I don't doubt for a second that he doesn't. Honestly, if he doesn't then this whole thing would have been a colossal waste of time," Jim says as he fidgets with his cuffs and straightens his tie. "Sherlock is going to come to you at some point soon after our little confrontation. He's going to want your help." Jim turns away from the mirror he was using to fix his hair. "And you are going to help him, Artemis. Well, mostly."

Artemis nods despite the fact that it was a command and not a question. She has a feeling she knows what Jim is implying. But, God help her, she hopes she's wrong. Because if she's right, then it's going to be a long time before she sees Jim again. A very long time.

Jim walks over to the side of the bed that Artemis is still laying in.

"I promise this isn't goodbye forever," Jim whispers before kissing her lips firmly. "Just for far longer than it ever has been before." He pecks her lips one last time before leaving the room.

Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say-

"Jim! Wait!" Artemis calls, leaping out of bed and hurrying after him, not at all caring that she's completely naked. Jim is waiting for her by the front door.

"I…" Artemis tries, but her throat closes up. "Jim, I…" Her throat closes up once more. She tries several more times as Jim waits patiently. Until he gets impatient.

"Oh, just say it," Jim says, sounding more amused than annoyed or exasperated.

Artemis takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

"I love you," she whispers.

She waits for the punchline. For the "I know". For the "Okay". For the "Goodbye". Hell, she expects a literal knife to her heart more than the answer she does get.

Jim's lips press against hers in a chaste, but lingering kiss. He just barely pulls his lips away from hers, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you, too."

And he's lying. She knows it. He knows it. They both know it. And it should hurt. It should rip her heart out to know that he's lying as he tells her this. But it doesn't. Because Jim Moriarty, the man who has never lied to her about anything, finally felt the need to lie to her about something. Perhaps because he didn't want to hurt her feelings. Or because he wanted it to be true. Maybe because he's afraid that if he didn't then she'd leave him. Hell, it could be all three.

Jim pulls away completely and Artemis keeps her eyes closed until the door slams shut behind him.

Not forever. Just a very long time.

\---

[Player Three: Sherlock Holmes - Chapter 6]

\---

[Player Two: Jim Moriarty - Chapter 2]

\---

That night, Artemis gets a text from Sebastian's number. Just one word. One word that lets her know that Sebastian isn't the one who sent the message.

'Shadow.'

\---

It's the day after Sherlock's funeral. Well, it's the evening of the day after Sherlock's funeral. Sunset, more specifically. The graveyard will be locking up soon.

Artemis stands in front of Sherlock's grave. The black headstone has nothing but his name written on it. Not even his actual name. Just 'Sherlock Holmes'.

She sees a familiar silhouette approaching from behind in the reflection of the black marble.

"You brought flowers," he comments.

Artemis looks down at the small bouquet of purple flowers in her hands.

"Clematis," she identifies. "Ingenuity. Artifice. Mental beauty. I thought they were a fitting flower for Sherlock Holmes." She turns to face the man whose grave she is standing over. "Though it seems sage would have been a better choice."

At Sherlock's blank look, Artemis rolls her eyes.

"Sage symbolizes wisdom and immortality," Artemis explains. "Two hundred and forty three different types of tobacco ash and no index of flower symbolism up there, huh?" Artemis asks, tapping her temple to indicate she is talking about Sherlock's mind palace.

There is a bit of a pause as neither seem to know what to say.

"I believe these are for you," Artemis finally says, holding out the flowers.

Sherlock steps forwards and takes them from her, studying them.

"Genus of the ranunculaceae family. The name is Greek in origin and roughly translates to 'a climbing plant'. These particular ones are Clematis Viticella. They are deciduous as opposed to their evergreen counterparts. They have no proven pharmaceutical use, nor are they in any way poisonous," Sherlock rambles on about the facts about the flowers in his hands. "The science is what is important to me. Symbolism is best left to poets and storytellers."

Sherlock plucks one of the flowers from the bouquet and tucks it behind Artemis' ear. His hand runs through her hair as he lowers it as though he can't help himself. Through her hair, down her arm, and to her wrist. He's checking her pulse. Watching her eyes carefully.

Artemis pulls her wrist out of his grip and turns her gaze away from his.

"I need your help, Artemis," Sherlock says with a sigh at being caught.

"You want me to help you disassemble the network," Artemis guesses.

Sherlock nods.

"Okay," Artemis says simply.

Sherlock is so taken aback by this that he actually physically leans back momentarily.

"Really? Just like that?" Sherlock asks.

"Just like that," Artemis confirms. "It's Moriarty's Network, Sherlock. No Moriarty, no network."

"Surely you could continue to run it," Sherlock points out. "Perhaps not quite as efficiently, but you could keep it going."

"I could," Artemis concedes. "But the network was Jim's creation. Jim's project. I only ever became part of it for Jim. Everything I ever did was for Jim." Artemis huffs a sarcastic laugh. "You were right, you know. I love-" Artemis flinches and corrects herself (although she was actually right the first time). "I loved him."

There is an uncomfortable silence after that which is eventually broken by Sherlock.

"You're not actually pregnant, are you?"

Artemis can't help but to let a startled laugh escape her lips.

\---

Artemis stares blankly at Mycroft's tie as he goes on and on about the deal he had drawn up. The basics were simple enough. She gives them the information upfront and then she disappears to the States forever with the promise that they won't come after her. Mycroft finishes his speech and a moment of silence passes as he waits for her response.

"No," Artemis finally says, her eyes still on his tie.

"No?" Mycroft questions, baffled as he probably considers his deal rather generous.

"No," Artemis says again, more firmly this time as she looks up into his eyes. Her own eyes narrow as she scrutinizes the man before her. "I had two things in this world. One of them blew his brains out not even a week ago. And now you want me to help you destroy the other?" Artemis hisses venomously. She then shrugs. "Fine. I'll do it, but I want something in return."

"We are giving you your freedom, Ms. Doyle-" Mycroft begins, but Artemis cuts him off.

"I am now the sole owner of a vast criminal network. Do you really think I couldn't have disappeared on my own if I wanted to?" Artemis scoffs. "No, I want something from you, Mycroft Holmes. Something only you can give me."

"And what's that?" Mycroft questions.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"My brother isn't mine to give," Mycroft informs the woman sitting across from him.

"No, but you can give me time," Artemis argues back.

"Time?" Mycroft asks, confused by her word choice.

"One man taking the whole network down by himself? Even if that man is Sherlock Holmes, it's going to take upwards of eighteen months," Artemis informs him. "I want that time."

Mycroft still looks a bit confused.

"Alright, my turn," Artemis says as she sits up straight and lays out her own deal. "I'll give you the information. But I'm going to do so as needed and I will only tell Sherlock the information."

"You want to travel with him," Mycroft realizes.

"Correct. And when the network is completely disassembled, you can send me off to the States," Artemis says, gesturing at the paperwork in front of Mycroft that outlined his deal. "Or lock me up forever. Or even kill me if it will make you feel better," Artemis says with a shrug. "But I want my time."

"I deeply regret to inform you that we have other ways of getting the information out of you," Mycroft says.

"Oh, I wish you all the best in that endeavor," Artemis says mock-sincerely and snorts at the idea of them being able to break her with torture. They wouldn't be the first to have tried doing so.

Mycroft sighs as he leans back in his chair.

"And what do you think, brother mine?"

Sherlock, who had been observing their exchange silently from a sofa not too far away, turns his gaze solely on Artemis as he studies her for a long, quiet moment. Artemis keeps her face carefully blank.

"Where should we start?" Sherlock finally asks.

Artemis can't help the satisfied grin that spreads across her face.

"I hear Estonia is nice this time of year."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't fact check me on flower facts. I used Wikipedia and the Farmer's Almanac. If it isn't totally accurate then we're just going to pretend that this is an alternate universe where it is totally accurate.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: "Expect at least a few days delay."  
> Also me: *updates over a month later*  
> So, yeah, the regularity of my updates was overwhelming me. I'm going to be updating once a week from now on. Sometime Monday evening PST.
> 
> TW: Unhealthy habits (barely eating/sleeping/taking care of one's basic needs), (not particularly graphic) description of injuries, mentions of (canonical) death penalty, and possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

"So, how do you want it?" Artemis asks casually as she drops her duffel bag onto one of the two beds in the hotel room in Estonia. "I could just give it to you or-" Artemis begins to say as she plops down on the bed as well. She stops when she sees the almost terrified look on Sherlock's face. She replays what she had just said in her head and a laugh bubbles out of her at the misunderstanding. "The information, Sherlock," Artemis clarifies.

"Oh, yes. Right, of course," Sherlock babbles, avoiding her eyes. Was he embarrassed? Cute.

"I could just give you the information," Artemis repeats. "Or I could give you hints about it like I assume Jim did." Just apparently not enough hints since they found the need to negotiate Artemis' help. "I can't guarantee they'll be as clever as Jim's hints, in fact I can probably guarantee the opposite. But I'm not stupid, I'm sure that I can figure something out."

"I never said you were stupid," Sherlock is quick to deny.

"You think nearly all people are stupid, Sherlock," Artemis counters, more amused than upset.

"Nearly all people," Sherlock repeats with emphasis on the 'nearly'.

Artemis just shrugs and Sherlock sighs.

"I suppose that you just giving me the information would be faster," Sherlock says.

"But…?" Artemis prompts.

"But I'll probably go off the deep end if I don't have something to keep my mind stimulated," Sherlock says honestly. "So I suppose I'll be taking the hints option."

Artemis grins as she takes out her phone and sends Sherlock the message she had created on the flight over. Sherlock's new phone pings with a message which he is quick to open. His phone beeps two times as a photo of some graffiti one of her Estonia contacts sent her appears on his screen.

"Two pips?" Sherlock questions as he studies the picture.

"Two main threads in this section of the web," Artemis answers.

Sherlock hums as he shrugs on a hoodie. It is so odd seeing him in casual wear and without his greatcoat. He heads for the door.

"Where are you going?" Artemis asks. "It's like one in the morning here and we just got off a long flight."

"The game, Artemis, is on," Sherlock tells her before he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Artemis rolls her eyes, grabs her duffel bag, and heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed like a sane person.

\---

Sherlock is nearly always gone. He doesn't even come back to their hotel room to sleep most nights. In fact, there are only two times he ever comes back. One, when he finishes a thread and needs the next clue, and even then he might just text her to ask for the next clue. And two, when he is so physically exhausted that he barely even makes it to his bed before passing out. Either way, Sherlock isn't really in the mood for conversation.

It's about two months after they left London when they finally have anything resembling a conversation.

\---

The bags under Sherlock's eyes are so dark that it looks like he smudges them with eyeshadow. His normally imposing, if a bit gangly, frame is now more gaunt than anything else. Artemis has only seen him sleep a total of four times in the three weeks they've been in Latvia.

And yet he all but bounces around the room as he packs his things.

"How can you possibly be enjoying this?" Artemis asks Sherlock as he zips up his bag. He hadn't really unpacked much at all, so it didn't take him long to repack what little made it out of his bag.

"It's stimulating," Sherlock tells her with a shrug. "Fun, even. Like one continuous game of Deductions."

"Game?" Artemis questions.

"Yes, Deductions," Sherlock confirms as he throws the duffel bag over his shoulder. "It's a game Mycroft and I used to play as children. I believe the details are self explanatory." Sherlock starts to head towards the door. "Now I believe we have a flight to catch."

\---

That was about the most intimate conversation they had within the first four months. All other conversation was either Sherlock asking for the next clue, Artemis telling Sherlock to take basic care of himself (and Sherlock mostly ignoring her), or non-existent.

With no real conversation from Sherlock, Artemis finds herself incredibly bored.

She has almost completely abandoned the network as she saw no point in keeping up with it if it is just going to be dismantled. The only work she is doing with it at all is finding some threads to bury away so that Sherlock doesn't find them. Just the bare minimum so that they don't have to start from scratch when all of this is over.

She has had no contact with Jim as he has gone deep into hiding. She doesn't know when she'll see him again, but he told her she will, so she knows she will. Still, it's hard not having the constant that was Jim Moriarty in her life. She misses him horribly.

So Artemis spends her days mostly bored in a hotel room. She does the tourist thing at each new place they go to, but they stay in these places for so long that she runs out of sights to see within the first week.

Artemis just wishes that she had something, anything, else to do.

Her wish is granted four months after they left London during their stay in Minsk, Belarus.

\---

Artemis arrives back at the hotel with the shopping. They always stay in a hotel with a kitchenette as their stays tend to be long. She digs her keycard out as she walks through the hall. But she finds that she doesn't need it when she gets to the door and finds it slightly ajar.

There is blood on the handle.

Artemis slowly, quietly, puts down the shopping bags. She pulls a small handgun out of her purse as she quietly pushes the door open just enough for her to enter. She eyes the bloody, smeared handprints on the wall as she walks down the short hall. She glances into the bathroom, but there is no sign of blood or anyone in there. She gets to the end of the short hall that acts as the entryway and nearly drops her gun at what she sees.

Sherlock lays face down on the bed Artemis claimed, probably because it was the closer one. His hand is hanging off the bed and is covered in blood, the dark crimson contrasting greatly against his sickeningly pale skin. But the blood on his hand is nothing compared to the amount of blood soaking the once-white sheets below him.

"Fuck!" Artemis curses. She places the gun on the dresser she passes on her way to the bed, not even bothering with uncocking it or any other gun safety protocols.

"Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead," Artemis says over and over again. She turns Sherlock over and is at least relieved to find his eyes aren't open and glassed over with the fog of death. But that doesn't mean he's alive. She checks the pulse point at his neck and breathes a sigh of relief as she feels a light beating against her fingertips. It's weak, but it's there.

"Fucking hell, Sherlock," Artemis mutters as she assesses the damage. There was the hand that had been hanging off the bed, still bleeding sluggishly from a few cuts. Then there was the real problem which was the deep knife wound in his side. It might not have been bleeding before Artemis had turned Sherlock over, but it was now that she had pulled the sheet and shirt away to see the wound. Artemis inspects the wound. Not deep enough to reach any organs, thank fuck. But the fact that Sherlock didn't even stir while she poked and prodded was not good news.

Now she has a choice. Call an ambulance or treat the wounds herself. If it had hit any organs, Artemis wouldn't even be hesitating to pick up the phone. But this is something she can feasibly take care of herself and, as a criminal, she prefers to avoid calling emergency services.

Artemis heads to her duffel bag and digs out her first aid kit. Thank God for her paranoia.

She quickly strips Sherlock of his shirt and works to clean, stitch, and dress the wound. With that done she repeats the process with his hand. She works clinically, her mind blank of everything but the task at hand. She's done this enough times with Sebastian and, to a lesser extent, Jim that she's used to it by now.

Artemis then remembers that the door is still hanging open with blood on it and shopping bags on the floor. She's surprised no one came walking in while she was treating Sherlock's wounds. She quickly cleans the blood from the door and wall as well as brings in and puts away the groceries.

She barely struggles to move Sherlock to the other bed, he really has lost too much weight. Then she strips the other bed and flips the mattress. She bundles the bloody bedding together so no blood is showing and carries it out. She runs into a maid who offers to take them from her. Artemis, after buying her silence, gives the maid the bundle to get rid of and is given replacement bedding.

Artemis arrives back in the room and, after checking that Sherlock is still breathing, puts the new bedding on the bed.

It's at this point that the mental and emotional exhaustion catches up to Artemis. She falls into the newly made bed and falls asleep in much the same position she found Sherlock in.

\---

Artemis tends to Sherlock's wounds for four days. Despite her best efforts, they did end up getting infected.

Sherlock wakes up sometimes, but he's so delirious from his damn fever that he just sort of babbles incoherently about improper grammar and a hanged man.

It's the morning of the fifth day that he finally seems at least somewhat coherent when he wakes up.

"Artemis?" Sherlock questions, waking up the woman who was asleep on his shoulder. She had taken to sleeping beside him the second night when he started trying to get up when he woke up and pulled his stitches.

Artemis looks up at Sherlock who looks back at her. His eyes hold confusion, but they aren't glassy with delirium.

"Guess your fever finally broke, then," Artemis says as she sits up and checks the time on her phone. "I should probably change your bandages." It's a little earlier than usual, but since she's up, she might as well.

"What day is it?" Sherlock asks as Artemis removes the bandages on his hand.

"Tuesday. You've been out of it for four days," Artemis informs him as she inspects the cuts she just revealed. The deepest one is still a little pink around the edges, but his hand seems mostly clear of infection.

Sherlock looks around as Artemis puts ointment on the cuts on his hand. She decides that she'll let them breathe, at least for now.

"Sit up," Artemis tells him. He does so and she removes the old bandage from his abdomen wound. Again, a little pink still, but the infection is mostly gone.

"Four days," Sherlock mutters, still seeming a bit lost.

"Yeah, the wound got infected. Apparently whoever stabbed you isn't a fan of cleaning their knives. Any chance you're coherent enough this time to tell me who that was?" Artemis asks as she rubs ointment on the wound.

"Just a friend of a man who tried to get me to help him get off a murder charge for a murder he clearly committed," Sherlock explains as Artemis gets a bandage prepared.

"The hanged man with the atrocious grammar?" Artemis guesses as she smoothes the bandage over the wound. She looks up at Sherlock's silence and sees the surprise clear on his face. "I'm guessing you don't remember any of the times you woke up, then?"

Sherlock shakes his head.

"Here," Artemis says and grabs the water glass on the nightstand to hand to him. "Maybe this time you'll actually drink it."

Sherlock takes the glass and sips it slowly.

Artemis gets up and heads to the coffee maker at the kitchenette. She quickly brews a pot and pours a mug. She turns around and freezes, lips against the rim of her mug, when she sees Sherlock has followed her.

"You shouldn't move too much. You could pull your stitches," Artemis says.

"You're exhausted," Sherlock tells her, stating it as fact.

"You're exhausting to take care of," Artemis fires back.

A smile twitches at the corner of Sherlock's lips. He takes a few steps closer until he's only half a step away from her.

"Thank you, Artemis," Sherlock says before leaning down and pressing a light kiss to her cheek.

"Yeah, well, I doubt the Iceman would let me live long if I let you die on my watch," Artemis excuses. Cheeks flaming, she sets down her mug and starts to walk towards the bathroom. "I need a shower. You should probably take one too if you're up for it. Try to eat something in the meantime."

Sherlock hums noncommittally as Artemis closes the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meta Mystery Update:
> 
> Congratulations to Misytyeyed for finding the correct theme of the aliases. Unfortunately they did not find the correct character (which was really my bad as I now realise that there were a few it could have been).
> 
> And to anyone not following along with the meta mystery of where the name Jennifer came from, here are the clues so you don't have to go scouring through the comments for them:
> 
> 1\. The clue is in the other female aliases mentioned in this story.  
> 2\. This mystery will not require any out-of-story research. Just some out-of-the-box thinking.  
> 3\. It isn't Jennifer Ainsley, but it is Jennifer _____. You know this woman's last name, but only because you know her husband's last name.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I'm not dead!
> 
> Hope you all are staying safe out there. I don't know why I didn't post this chapter earlier, it's been done for ages. I've given up on any sort of update schedule, so you'll just have to bear with me on random updates while I continue writing this. I promise I will finish it at some point as I do have the whole thing planned out.
> 
> TW: Non-con drug use, torture (not explicit), implied sexual content, and mentions of possible psychopathic and/or sociopathic behavior.

Ukraine is next on the list. It's a large place with quite the checkered past, so it's not surprising that there are six main threads there. In the nearly two months that they spend there, the relationship between Artemis and Sherlock shifts slightly.

Sherlock is sleeping and eating more often. Not quite enough to be healthy, but better than before. The bags under his eyes are lighter in shade and, while he hasn't seemed to gain any weight back, he's at least not losing it anymore.

With Sherlock around more often, he starts to fill the silence with attempts at conversation. Silly small talk mostly, but at least he's trying. And after the first few weeks his apparent and sudden interest only increases. He starts looking at her more often. He's not checking her out so much as he seems to be appraising her. Looking at her like she's a puzzle that he can't quite solve. And then there is the touching. It starts as a simple, unnecessary touch to her shoulder as he reaches over her to get something from the cupboard above her. The superfluous touches continue from there. They're rare enough that if it were anyone else, Artemis probably wouldn't have noticed. But this is Sherlock who doesn't waste his time with anything he sees as pointless. So the awkward, unneeded small talk and unnecessary touching means something to Sherlock then. Or perhaps he's getting just as touch starved and lonely without John as Artemis is without Jim.

All of this apparent interest comes to a head six months after they left London, while they're in Chisinau, Moldova.

\---

It's been two days and Artemis doubts that they'll be in Moldova much longer. The small country only has one thread. A small weapon smuggling operation with a leader who likes to boast her connection to the Moriarty Criminal Network. Shouldn't take Sherlock very long to find it.

Artemis is just arriving back to the hotel room after a day of sightseeing when it happens. She walks into the room and is greeted by several guns in her face. Artemis raises her hands in surrender and then there is a needle in her neck wielded by a man who must have been hiding in the bathroom she passed when she came in. As Artemis' world goes black, all she can do is silently curse herself for getting too comfortable.

\---

Artemis thinks it's been about a day since she was captured by her own weapon smuggling ring. About a day of whips and bludgeoning objects and knives. Katea, the fucking insane woman who leads this branch of the network, is determined to find out where Jim is. Unlike the rest of the network, Katea refuses to believe Jim is dead. But with her absolute obsession with him, that was probably to be expected.

It's the night of the first day of torture when Artemis awakes to her next torturer entering the room. He's covered in the same robes as all of her other torturers, but she'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Pale green with a brown pin-prick above the right pupil.

Sherlock quickly and quietly incapacitates the lone guard inside the room that they're in. He then hurries over to Artemis, pulling the cloth from his face as he does so. Instead of quickly unshackling her like she'd expect him to do, Sherlock gently cups her cheek in his hand, thumb tracing over what is no doubt a very nasty looking bruise from her first torturer. There is absolute rage flickering behind the calm facade he is trying to keep. He soon shakes himself from his trance and quickly unlocks the shackles around Artemis' wrists and ankles.

They make their daring escape from the compound. People shouting in a language that Artemis never bothered to learn, guns firing, sirens blaring, running through mostly darkness. It's exhilarating and terrifying. So maybe it's no wonder that when they hide out in a small cramped room to catch their breath halfway through their escape, they end up wrapped around each other with their lips locked together in a heated, though admittedly clumsy, kiss. The moment is broken however when a guard yanks open the door. Fortunately, he's taken so off guard by the state he finds them in that Artemis is able to incapacitate him with a quick jab to the throat and they continue on with their escape.

They end up in some crappy, pay-by-the-hour motel for the night. Artemis strips off the remnants of her shirt as Sherlock collects the abysmally inadequate first aid kit and any other supplies he can find. Sherlock is clinical as he helps patch up Artemis. The only wounds that really need attention are the slashes on her back from the whip and the cuts on her upper arms from a knife. All wounds meant to cause pain and not any real damage, but they could be dangerous if they end up getting infected.

It's odd being on the other end of this. Usually she is the one patching up Sherlock. And it wasn't just the knife incident. Sherlock had also gotten himself captured in Ukraine. He had managed to get away before they did any serious damage, but he was a bit bruised and bloodied when he arrived back at the hotel. In that instance he had been rather chatty. Now he just worked silently.

"Stop thinking about it so much," Artemis tells him as he works at cleaning the wounds on her back. He had done her arms first and had ended up using butterfly bandages where she probably actually needed stitches, but they didn't have any.

"Stop thinking about what so much?" Sherlock asks, playing dumb.

"You know what," Artemis says, rolling her eyes. "We can just forget it ever happened if that's what you want."

There is a long silence as Sherlock finishes cleaning and dressing her wounds. She hears him pack up what little remains of the first aid kit and set it aside.

"And what if I don't want to forget that it happened?" Sherlock asks quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

Artemis turns to look at him. He looks back at her, his eyes full of desire but at a loss for how to act on those desires.

Artemis doesn't know who initiated the first kiss, that whole escapade is mostly a blur to her, but it's definitely Artemis who initiates the second one. Sherlock is quick to kiss back, but his movements are awkward and stilted. Artemis couldn't care less about his inexperience as she slowly lowers him the rest of the way down until he's fully laying on the bed with her on top of him.

\---

Artemis can feel Sherlock's eyes on her the next morning as she heads towards the bathroom to shower. She's going to need Sherlock to get her some clothes that aren't in absolute tatters before she can leave the motel room. Artemis turns suddenly and catches him staring.

"Sorry," Sherlock apologizes, quickly glancing away from her.

Artemis rolls her eyes. She knows that he wasn't checking her out. That's not the kind of man he is, that isn't the way he thinks.

"Oh, go on then," Artemis says, gesturing at her body. "Play Deductions."

Sherlock doesn't even have to look her over again before he's rattling off the deductions he's made.

"Yesterday clearly wasn't the first time you've experienced torture. You have scarring from approximately half a decade ago on your back from much the same treatment you experienced yesterday. The scarring on your ribs from that same time is similar to what will end up being on your biceps from this time around. Then there's the scarring from the same time on your thighs. Oil burns if I had to guess," Sherlock says, his voice remaining clinical until it shakes on the last sentence.

Artemis swallows as she feels a sting behind her eyes. She blinks a few times to keep her eyes clear of tears before she speaks.

"It was seven years ago. We were still fairly new to this, only two years into the creation of the network. We were bound to make a mistake or two. We trusted someone we shouldn't have. They kidnapped me to try and get to Jim. They had me for four days before Se-" Artemis cuts off her story when she remembers who she's telling it to just in time. She doesn't want to reveal Sebastian's identity to Sherlock. "There was this guy that was working for the people who… captured… me," Artemis explains, unable to bring herself to admit to what really happened to her even though Sherlock had just said so in gruelling detail. "He's fairly well known in the underworld, goes by the moniker M. Best sniper in the business amongst other things. He turned on his employers and got me out. Brought me back to Jim. I guess he saw promise in the name Moriarty, wanted to get on Jim's good side. We started hiring him for jobs after that." Artemis huffs a sarcastic laugh. "He's the only thread that I'm not going to give you. Because he's more than a thread. He's my friend."

There is a long awkward silence as neither of them seem to know what to say.

"Then there's the other scarring," Sherlock continues on with his deductions as if Artemis had never spoken. "The older scarring. The ones that stopped a decade and a half ago. They're faded, but they're there."

Artemis closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She opens her eyes and locks her gaze with Sherlock's.

"Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my abusive father," Artemis says, mimicking Sherlock's format from the pool.

"You were his first client," Sherlock realizes.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Artemis nods. "But I never actually wrote a 'Dear Jim' letter. I didn't have to. He took matters into his own hands after he found out about it." A wry smile stretches across Artemis' lips. "Apparently Jimmy liked to play Deductions too."

With that Artemis heads into the bathroom and quickly hops into the shower. The spray mixes with her tears and drowns out her quiet sobs as she works to repack away the emotional scars of her childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the topic of Sherlock's sexuality: I know there are a lot of people who like to see him as an asexual character, and while there is nothing wrong with that, I personally don't see him that way. I actually believe that he isn't even asexual in canon as Magnussen's file on Sherlock lists his Porn Preference as "Normal" where Lady Smallwood's is "None" so we know that Sherlock, at the very least, watches porn. And while I'm not super knowledgeable about asexuallity, I think most asexual people would agree that they don't watch porn regularly enough that someone watching their habits would know their preferences. I'm not saying that it's impossible that Sherlock is canonically asexual, just that it seems more likely that he isn't. And anyway, this is fanfiction, so Sherlock can be any sexuality I want him to be. As for his sexuality in this fic, Sherlock is being rather difficult with giving me an answer there. I think demisexual is the closest label that fits him, but even that doesn't feel quite right.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique).
> 
> Like seriously, I could use some motivation, feel free to yell at me about the abhorrent time between updates.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus points to whoever knows where I got inspired for my OC's name :)
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. (Seriously I promise you that as long as your goal is to better my writing and not tear me down, I will not be offended if you have a critique)


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